📘Back From Love（爱已归来）
💔Chapter 5: Ghosting the Ghoster
📍Setting: Thursday Evening – Xiaoxi's Apartment | Flashback: Last Year, Ex-Boyfriend
Chen Xiaoxi had spent the last three days watching a little gray "1" sit silently next to Lu Zihan's name in WeChat.
One unread message.
No reply.
No dots.
Just space.
Empty. Quiet. Too familiar.
She didn't cry—not because she wasn't hurt, but because crying felt too dramatic for something that hadn't even technically started.
Instead, she cleaned. Scrubbed the kitchen twice. Organized her sock drawer by color and mood.
Then sat on the couch and stared at her phone like it had personally betrayed her.
🧠Flashback: The Last Time She Got Ghosted
It had been a rainy Thursday too.
She remembered it not because of the weather, but because she'd made pasta.
Handmade, from scratch. With wine. Basil. Hope.
She waited for her then-boyfriend, Yu Fan, to arrive. He was late. But that wasn't new.
What was new, though, was the silence. No call. No text. No apology.
She texted once.
> "Hey, you okay?"
Read. No reply.
Then again.
> "Are you coming?"
Read. No reply.
Then nothing.
For five days.
When he finally responded, he didn't even apologize.
Just said, "Sorry. I needed space."
Space.
That was the word she came to hate.
Wine, Ranting, and Best Friend Therapy:
"Okay, say it," Xiaoxi said, pouring a generous glass of red wine.
Li Wei, her best friend since the second year of uni, raised an eyebrow. "Say what?"
"That I pushed him away. That I'm emotionally constipated. That this is just history repeating itself."
Li Wei took a sip from her own glass and set it down with theatrical flair. "First of all, you're not constipated. Emotionally or otherwise. You're just allergic to vulnerability."
"Same thing."
"And second," she continued, "this Lu Zihan guy? He didn't ghost you."
Xiaoxi pointed at her phone like it had offended her ancestors. "Three days."
"You told him you needed space."
"I said maybe we met at the wrong time. That's not the same as ghost me until I emotionally evaporate."
Li Wei crossed her arms. "You're scared."
Xiaoxi looked down. "I don't want to fall again just to break."
Li Wei's voice softened. "Babe, you're not falling. You're avoiding the chance to even try."
-What If He's Done Waiting?
That night, lying in bed, the wine buzz fading and her thoughts sharpening, Xiaoxi scrolled back through her message thread with Zihan.
There weren't that many.
A few jokes. A few photos. Her confession that she ran. His quiet understanding.
And then the last one.
> "I don't play games, Xiaoxi. But I won't chase ghosts either."
She hadn't responded.
She hadn't even liked the message.
Because deep down, she thought maybe… maybe it was better if he just gave up.
Then she wouldn't have to explain all the ways she wasn't ready. Wasn't healed.
Wasn't enough.
But now that he actually hadn't texted?
She felt sick.
Because what if he had moved on?
What if someone else—braver, simpler—had walked into his life, smiled like she meant it, and never once looked like she'd bolt in the middle of a conversation?
Xiaoxi sat up in bed, the room suddenly too quiet. Too still.
She opened WeChat. Her fingers hovered.
Typed.
> "Hi."
Deleted it.
Typed again.
> "You were right. I was disappearing. Not because of you—because I don't trust the ground yet."
Paused.
> "But if you're still willing to talk, I'd like to try again. No metaphors. No games. Just coffee and honesty. Maybe soon."
She read it twice.
Then hit Send.
🕓The Wait
She didn't expect an immediate reply.
But she also didn't expect the sharp twist of dread that came with the ding a moment later.
[Lu Zihan]:
> "I've been at my grandparents' house. No Wi-Fi, just dumplings.
Got back tonight.
And yes. Coffee and honesty sounds good.
Name the time."
She let out a sound that was half-sob, half-laugh.
Then messaged back:
> "Saturday. 11 a.m.
That café you made me hold foam art at.
I'll try not to run this time."