We left the cafeteria with Peter practically bouncing beside me, his face aglow—joy written in every curve of his wide smile. He'd finally gotten the number of the girl who had completely stolen his heart. Anyone watching him might've believed he'd just fallen in love for the first time.
As we strolled toward our place, a voice rang out across the campus.
"Cedric! Cedric!"
I turned, startled, and there she was—Thando. Both Peter and I halted.
She hurried toward us and pulled me into a tight, lingering hug. Warm. Sweet. Familiar in a way that made me hesitate to let go. Then she gave Peter a quick embrace too before saying, "Where are you guys coming from? I was actually looking for you, Cedric."
"You were looking for me?" I asked, my voice soft and laced with quiet confusion. Why me? I'm just... a nobody. A fool, a broke guy with little to offer. If it hadn't been for Sarah, I'd still be in those baggy, worn-out trousers and my threadbare shirt. The thought made my stomach sink.
Why would someone like her look for someone like me? People like Thando didn't notice People like me, unless....unless, for a moment, I wasn't invisible anymore. Maybe... I meant something
Before I could say more, Peter blurted out, "Ced's just been discharged from the hospital. He was admitted for two days. He looks okay now, but inside, he's still a little rough."
Thando's expression shifted immediately. "I'm so sorry, Cedric. I had no idea."
She stepped closer and gently took my hand—her touch soft, caring. "Why were you in the hospital? What's going on?"
"Just something minor," I mumbled. "Nothing serious. I should rest, though. Let's catch up tomorrow."
She nodded. "Sure. Just let me know if you're free. I want to make my ex jealous by going out with you—there's this restaurant I know he'll be at tomorrow." Her eyes held a mischievous glint. "And if you're not up to it, Peter, would you mind being my date?"
"Oh yes, I'd love that! What time?" Peter asked, his face glowing even brighter. He practically lit up at the thought of a date with such a beautiful young woman. Who wouldn't jump at an offer like that?
Peter bounced beside me, and I smiled for him. His joy felt easy, uncomplicated. I couldn't say the same for mine. But maybe that's the difference between us. I've learned how to live in the shadows, quietly cheering for others even when my chest feels hollow.
I chuckled and said, "You guys better enjoy yourselves—and make sure you don't get into trouble with Frank. He is your ex, remember."
Thando threw her head back and laughed. "Oh, no worries. I just want him to know that I'm still a catch—that other people are interested in me too." She smiled slyly, eyes gleaming with something between defiance and charm. "See you tomorrow, guys." And with that, she walked away.
As we continued strolling back toward our place, a tight knot began forming in my stomach. What if Sarah had seen that hug? What if she'd overheard Thando's request? Would she think I'd moved on? Would she even care... or was I the only one still stuck in the past?
The ache in my chest grew heavier, and my stomach gave a low, restless growl—half from hunger, half from the creeping anxiety that stirred beneath the surface. Meanwhile, Peter was lost in his own world, practically skipping beside me. I could already tell it was going to be a long night for him—filled with dreams of Thando's smile and the date ahead.
"I'm almost home," I said finally, trying to mask the weight in my voice. "Catch you tomorrow, bro."
We nodded, exchanged a quick fist bump, and went our separate ways.
As I stood in the kitchen brewing myself a cup of coffee, the rich aroma curling in the air, my phone rang. I pulled it from my pocket—and to my surprise, Sarah's name lit up the screen. A smile tugged at my lips. She still cares. I answered.
"Hi Sarah, what's up?"
"Hey Ced, how are you feeling? I just called to check on you. You know I'm probably the only one who cares about you this much."
My voice was barely a whisper. "I know. If it weren't for you, I'm sure I'd still be mocked by the other students because of the way I dress. It's all thanks to you."
Emotion tightened in my throat. Tears welled up, spilling down my cheeks as my voice cracked.
"Sarah, I know I've hurt you a lot… but I want you to know I'm thankful to the Lord for your kindness and love. May He bless you. And thank you—even for this call."
"It's my pleasure. Let me know if you need anything, okay?"
"Okay, thanks."
"Oh, by the way—Shantel said that when she saw you, she thought you looked familiar. Do you feel the same? Have you met her before?" she asked.
I froze for a moment. Questions spun through my mind. Does she know? Has Shantel told her something I've tried so hard to bury? If she knows who I'd really been.....would she still care?
I cleared my throat. "No… I don't know her. Or maybe we met before, but I don't remember."
"Ah, okay. I was just curious. Good night."
The line went dead. I stared at my phone, a cold sweat breaking across my brow. My secret… was it finally catching up with me?
That night, I went to bed unusually early. The drowsiness had wrapped around me thick and heavy—maybe the medicine was stronger than I thought. Sarah had been the only one to call, and for that, I was quietly grateful. At least she still cared.
The next thing I remember, I was at a softly lit restaurant, the kind with warm amber lights and slow jazz melting into the air. I wasn't sure how I got there—I only knew I was hungry. As I looked around, my eyes caught a familiar figure.
Shantel.
She sat alone at a small table near the window, her fingers absentmindedly tracing the rim of her glass. What was she doing here? Was she waiting for Chris? A flicker of uncertainty passed through me, but I walked over and slid into the seat beside her.
We talked. More than we had in years. Our words flowed with surprising ease, punctuated by bursts of laughter that made the distance between us feel like smoke—visible for a moment, then gone. Everything about it reminded me of what we used to be.
Then she looked at me—held my gaze so intently it quieted the room around us.
"Ced," she said softly, "you know I still love you. I've regretted leaving you for a long time. You're kind… you're sweet… and you never deserved to be judged for where you come from."
Her fingers reached across the table, finding mine. Her touch was warm, deliberate.
I lifted my right hand and brushed it gently across her cheek, drawn by something I didn't fully understand. Her skin felt impossibly soft, her eyes impossibly close.
"I still feel the same," I murmured.
And then she leaned in, her lips finding mine in a kiss that felt stolen from another lifetime.
We didn't notice the figure approaching.
Chris.
He stood a few feet away, frozen in place. His face was unreadable—but he'd seen everything. Heard everything. And in that suspended moment, it felt like the world had shifted beneath us.