Tied In Silence

Lyra set the table with shaky hands, her heart racing. She was nervous, excited, and terrified all at once. Would he like it? Would he finally say something kind? Maybe… just maybe, tonight would be different.

Lexa sat nearby, arms crossed, watching her with a look Lyra couldn’t quite decipher. Was it pity? Concern?

Lyra ignored it. She had done something special today. She had tried. That had to mean something, right?

She took a deep breath and glanced at the clock. He should be here by now.

Minutes passed.

Then an hour.

The food was getting cold. The candle she had lit flickered weakly, as if mirroring her own fading hope.

Maybe he’s just busy...

She picked at her fingers under the table, forcing herself to stay positive. But deep down, something was cracking.

Lexa sighed heavily, pushing her chair back. "Lyra… eat."

Lyra shook her head. "He’ll come. Just a little longer."

Another ten minutes.

Then fifteen.

Finally, Lexa spoke again, softer this time. "He’s not coming."

The words landed like a punch to the gut. Lyra’s grip on the fork tightened, her throat burning.

Of course, he’s not.

Her lips trembled, but she smiled anyway, nodding like she understood. Like she hadn’t been stupid enough to believe he would sit here, across from her, and eat the food she made with him in mind.

Lexa watched her closely, waiting for the tears, the anger—something.

But all Lyra did was pick up her fork and take a small bite.

The food was cold. The spices were too strong.

It tasted terrible.

But not as terrible as the feeling in her chest.

---

Lyra sat curled up on the bed, staring at her phone screen, the message still glowing back at her.

> Lyra: Thank you for hiring Lexa back. I’m cooking you and Lexa’s favorite dinner. Please don’t be late tonight.

A bitter laugh escaped her lips. How could I be so stupid?

Tears welled up in her eyes, blurring the screen. She clenched her jaw, forcing herself to read the words again and again, as if punishing herself for ever hoping.

Her fingers hovered over the keyboard, heart hammering in her chest. I hate you, Victor. I hate you so much.

She typed the words, her thumb trembling over the send button. But she couldn’t press it.

What if… what if he replied?

What would he say? Would he apologize? Would he ignore it like he ignored her for two years?

Her chest tightened, the weight of her emotions pressing down too heavily. I can’t breathe.

Frustration boiled over. With a broken sob, she hurled the phone across the room, the sound of glass shattering against the wall echoing through the silence.

She buried her face in her hands, her shoulders shaking with each ragged breath. I hate you. I’ll never talk to you again.

She wanted to scream it in his face. To make him feel the same pain she had drowned in for years.

And just like that, she was done waiting.

With tear-stained cheeks and a reckless determination, she grabbed her coat. She didn’t know the way to his office. She didn’t care.

She would find him.

She would make him listen.