We were sitting in a quiet café by the window, facing each other. It was 10 a.m., and the morning sun poured in gently, casting soft golden hues across the table. The world outside was moving, people walking by, cars passing, but inside, it felt still, like time had slowed just for this moment.

  Alax reached for the menu, even though our order had already arrived. I noticed how his fingers trembled slightly, how he avoided my eyes like there was something too heavy behind them.

  “What do you want most in life?” he asked, voice calm but laced with something quieter, something sadder.

  “Peace,” I said after a pause, gently taking the menu from his hands. Our fingers brushed for a second, and he pulled his hand back quickly.

  He exhaled, deep and quiet. “And what gives you peace?” he asked again, but this time his voice was lower, almost like he was afraid of my answer.

  “Books, coffee… and plants,” I said, smiling softly. “Together, they feel like peace.”

  He gave a slight nod, but his eyes didn’t meet mine.

  “So… you like peace,” he whispered, and for a moment, it sounded like he was trying to understand something about me that he had never asked before.

  Then his next words came too fast, too sharp.

  “And… how long have you liked Rowan?”

  I froze. He sipped his coffee casually, but his knuckles were tight around the cup, and his eyes finally met mine with a look that held more than just curiosity.

  “Come on,” he said, smiling. “It’s all over your face.”

  I instinctively turned to the window, checking my reflection as if I could somehow see it there. Alax chuckled.

  “Seriously?” I said.  

 I turned back to him, a bit embarrassed.

  “Actually… I do,” I admitted, then paused. “But…”

  “What but? ” he said warmly. “You can tell me.”

  His words hit me like a quiet wave. Guilt settled heavily in my chest.

  I had made him my friend just so I could be closer to Rowan.

  And yet, here he was, being a real friend to me. He helped me, cared for me, and looked out for me. And I… had only used him in the beginning.

  “Actually… there’s something I need to tell you,” I said, nervously rubbing my hands together.

  But Alax just nodded cluelessly, enjoying his sandwich.

  “I’m sorry,” I said suddenly.

  He looked up from his food, surprised. “Sorry for what?” he asked, placing his hand on the table.

  I reached out and held his hand gently. He became still, speechless, like he was bracing for something unexpected.

  “I became your friend because I wanted to get closer to Rowan,” I confessed. “That’s what I thought in the beginning. But after spending time with you… I started seeing you as a real friend. Now, you’re just as important to me as Nora and David.”

  I looked at him, waiting for his reaction.

  His eyes were still fixed on the hand I was holding.

  “Actually, I knew that from the beginning,” Alax said softly, looking at me.

  “You knew? Then why didn’t you say anything?” I asked, stunned.

  “Because I just wanted to be with you… somehow,” he replied gently.

“Do you love him?” he asked, his voice quiet but steady.

  I hesitated. “Maybe…I love him, I don't know” I murmured, as if I wasn’t sure whether the words belonged to me.

  “Maybe?” he repeated, a faint smirk tugging at his lips, though his eyes held something softer—something aching.

  Then, without a word, he placed his other hand over mine. Now, my hand was enclosed between both of his, warm, steady, and trembling just a little. I didn’t quite know what was happening, what he was trying to say, until he finally did.

  “Actually… I love you,” he whispered. “Without a ‘maybe.’ Without a pause. I love you.”

  I was still processing what he had just said, stunned by the sudden confession.

  “I know you like Rowan, and I’m not asking you to feel the same way about me,” he continued, his voice gentle. “I’m just… happy being by your side.”

  His eyes met mine, steady and full of sincerity. I was surprised, caught in a moment I hadn’t seen coming.

  “If you like me… then how can you be okay with me and Rowan? And why are you still helping?” I asked, my voice barely above a whisper.

  He looked at me, not with anger, not with pain, but with a softness that made my heart ache.

  “Because you’re happy,” he said quietly. “I like it when you smile… even if it’s not for me.”

  His calm voice, the way he looked at me, it was quiet, selfless, and full of something deeper than I could explain.

  Our eyes locked, and for a moment, the world went still.

  That’s when I finally understood what Aunt once told me.

  If you really love someone, you want their happiness… even if it doesn’t include you.

  And suddenly, his silence over all those days made sense. His quiet support. His gentle distance.

Why didn’t I feel uncomfortable when he confessed?

  Why was I still so comfortable around him, even after knowing he liked me?

  Was I okay with his confession… or did I just not care enough about how he felt?

  I didn’t know.

  I just know I didn’t want to lose a friend like him.

  He wasn’t asking for anything. He didn’t expect anything.  

 And maybe that’s what made it easier to stay.

  But still… I feel like I need to clear a few things.