Antonio's POV:
I didn't expect her to be there.
Years had passed, and still, I saw her in strangers, heard her voice in songs, and felt her absence in the quiet. But that day, at the exhibition, when I turned and saw her—Selene—everything inside me froze. Except she wasn't Selene anymore. She called herself Atasha now. But no name, no time, no distance could ever change who she was to me.
The moment she turned and our eyes met, the years melted away. Her stare was colder now—guarded—but it still carried the fire I remembered. And the hurt. I stepped toward her, the words I'd rehearsed for so long trembling on my lips. "Selene," I whispered, needing to say her real name one more time. She flinched, and her voice came sharp, "It's Atasha." God, I deserved that.
Still, I spoke the truth. "I missed you so much… and I know I hurt you. I know you loved me."
When she said she still loved me, my heart cracked open. I had dreamed of hearing those words again, but not like that. Not through pain. Not with tears in her voice. She thought I chose my ex over her, but the truth was—I never really chose at all. I was scared. Confused. And by the time I realized where my heart truly was, Selene was already gone.
I looked into her eyes and said what I should've said long ago. "I broke up with her the day I found out why you left. I realized too late that you were the one I wanted. That I loved you back. But you were already gone… and I didn't know how to fix what I'd broken."
She didn't forgive me, not right away. And maybe she never would. But the way she looked at me—like she still felt something—I knew I had to try. Because losing her once was a mistake. Losing her again would be a tragedy.
She didn't say anything for a moment. Just looked at me—really looked. And in that silence, I realized how much I had truly lost. She was no longer the soft, shy girl who used to smile when I teased her. She was stronger now. Her pain had shaped her, and I was part of that pain. It hurt to know I had carved my name into her sadness.
"I'm not the same girl you knew," she finally said, voice quiet but steady. "I don't fall so easily anymore. And I don't forgive easily either."
"I know," I said, stepping back to give her space, "but I'm not the same either. I spent every day wishing I could go back, wishing I'd handled it differently. But I can't. All I can do now is stand in front of you and be honest."
She turned away slightly, but I caught the soft trembling of her fingers. That small detail—so familiar, so her—gave me a flicker of hope. Maybe I hadn't lost her completely. Maybe a part of her still remembered the boy who once made her laugh in the middle of math class. The one who stared a little too long, who got jealous too easily, who fell for her without meaning to.
"If there's any chance left," I whispered, "even the smallest one… I'll wait. As long as it takes."
Selene/Atasha's POV:
I stood there, heart pounding, trying not to let the way he looked at me undo everything I'd built. I had spent years becoming someone new—someone stronger, untouchable. But the way Antonio said my name, the way his voice trembled when he said he would wait... it cracked something in me. Something I had buried deep under distance, silence, and time.
"I'm not the same girl you knew," I'd told him—and it was true. But standing there, I hated how easily my heart still leaned toward him, how even now, after everything, I still wondered what it would feel like to fall into his arms and just… forgive. To love freely again without fear.
But I was scared. Scared that if I let him in again, I'd end up more broken than before. And yet, even as I turned away from him, I couldn't stop thinking about how he said he loved me. I had waited so long to hear those words. I just never imagined they'd come when I was already halfway out of reach.
I walked away, but every step felt heavier than the last. And when I finally sat alone backstage after the exhibition, sketchpad resting in my lap, I found myself drawing a silhouette I hadn't touched in years—his. Even after everything, my hands still remembered him. Maybe, just maybe, my heart did too.
I didn't plan on seeing him again. After the exhibition, I thought I'd disappear back into the life I had carefully stitched together—one without him. But the universe had other plans. A few days later, I received an envelope delivered to my parents' house. No name on the outside. Just… my old name. Selene.
Inside was a sketch—my sketch. One I had thrown away years ago. It was a drawing of a boy and a girl sitting under the same tree where Antonio and I first spoke properly. And written beside it, in his handwriting, were the words: "You were never just an option. You were always the one."
I don't know what came over me, but I cried. Not the broken sobs I used to hide under my pillow, but soft, releasing tears. It wasn't just about love. It was about finally letting go of the weight I carried alone for so long. The anger. The ache. The fear that I was never enough.
That evening, I sent him a message—not as Atasha, but as Selene. "I'm still scared… but I think I'm ready to talk."
And maybe, that was the real beginning. Not the confession. Not the reunion. But the moment I chose to let my heart speak again, even if it trembled. Even if it had every reason not to..