Nicole confuses touch with closeness.
She gives her body
without knowing what it means to give her heart.
And I…
I think I gave mine away—
without asking.
Without a contract.
Without return.
In a dream, I once told her:
“You’re looking for love in the wrong places.
In the wrong arms.
In the wrong eyes.
And you keep coming back with empty hands
because none of them sees you.
The real you.”
She looked at me and said nothing.
Then she vanished.
I’d wake in a sweat.
Go splash my face with cold water.
Because the heart
burns hotter than the pulse.
I am a prosecutor—inside myself.
I accuse her of recklessness.
I accuse myself of weakness.
I accuse fate—for giving me a feeling without a future.
But deep down… I’m not asking for punishment.
I’m asking for a chance.
If she ever wakes up—
from her world,
from his words,
from those empty connections—
I want to be the one who says:
“I’m still here. Watching. Silent.
But waiting.”
Chapter 3. A Clean Result
Love doesn’t always end in drama.
Sometimes—it ends in silence.
You look at a person… and you no longer wait.
Ted was gone.
At first, Nicole simply stopped showing up with him.
Then she deleted all their photos.
Then—she told me.
“He went back to his ex.
Or left for her.
What’s the difference.”
She shrugged.
But her voice trembled.
And her eyes—
for the first time—really saw me.
We didn’t talk about the details.
I didn’t feel jealous anymore.
Something inside me had already let go.
We started walking again.
Like before.
Only… not like before.
I drove her to the clinic.
Didn’t ask why.
She was quiet, looking out the window.
On the way back, as we parked, she suddenly said:
“Kuwait. You can congratulate me.”
“For what, Nicole?”
“I’m HIV-negative.”
And she smiled wide—like a kid who just got an A.
“Really… thanks for the ride.”
I looked at her.
The word HIV dropped between us like a pebble in water.
No splash.
But deep.
“Congratulations,” I managed to say.
She laughed.
“Well, you know how it gets at parties… chaos, one-night love stories.
In the morning, no one remembers who was next to them.
So yeah—I was worried.”
I didn’t know what to say.
I smiled—politely.
Because she was happy.
Because I didn’t feel anything anymore.
Day by day, Nicole began to glow again.
Not outwardly—inwardly.
She grew calmer. Deeper.
She started asking about me.
She listened. Held eye contact longer.