The Quiet of What Remains
Afnan woke to the familiar buzz of the phone on the bedside table, a sound that seemed to belong to the fabric of mornings like a small, persistent ache. The name on the screen blinked—Oni. A reminder of the argument that had spun late into the night, both trivial and profound. Afnan hadn’t responded then, choosing to sink into the sanctuary of silence. Yet today, there was something different in the messages, as though the storm had passed, leaving the air just a bit clearer.
Cheating. The word hovered, unsettling. Afnan despised it, not just the act but what it represented—a breach, a betrayal. And still, it clung to life’s edges, a thread that couldn’t be untangled. Why do we betray? What compels us to cross lines we once swore to protect? Afnan had always thought such things were beneath them, but here he was, standing in the midst of a moral fog, unsure where he fit in the story he was living.
It had been three years since Afnan first met Oni at a friend’s summer gathering, the kind where the air felt thick, and the night carried an unspoken tension. Oni had a way of drawing people in effortlessly, like the moon tugging the tides. Afnan, quieter, more inward, had found themself gravitating toward that magnetic pull.
For a while, it was electric—Oni’s unpredictability, their passion, the storm that brewed between them. But storms, Afnan learned, could be dangerous. It started with subtle things—Oni’s flirtations that strayed beyond harmless, moments that felt more like slipping into another reality than staying present in their own. Afnan forgave after tense conversations, patched over with words that seemed more like bandages than solutions. Still, they moved forward, or so it seemed.
Yet the cracks deepened. The dating profiles that lingered, the lingering messages from strangers, late-night exchanges that felt too secretive to be innocent. Sometimes, Afnan would raise the subject, other times, they let it pass, convincing themselves that relationships were chaotic by nature, full of compromises and uneasy peace.
But Afnan held onto a secret too, one that nestled quietly in the corners of his mind—a growing affection for Riz, Oni’s closest friend. It felt harmless at first, a crush that even Oni knew about, laughed off in moments of vulnerability. Yet, as Riz prepared to leave the country, the stirrings within Afnan grew into something more. They said their goodbyes, but it didn’t end there. Riz reached back with an unexpected eagerness, igniting a spark Afnan didn’t anticipate. They met twice in that last week, and what was once just a distant thought now complicated everything.
Afnan believed it would fade once Riz left. Distance, he hoped, would bring clarity. But Riz didn’t let go, and as the days passed, Afnan found him caught in an emotional storm, the very kind he had tried to avoid. The texts, the calls—they came, pulling Afnan deeper into something he couldn’t quite define.
Oni found out.
Afnan had thought the reaction would be calm, that he’d be understood, that honesty could save them. After all, hadn’t he forgiven Oni for similar missteps? But the response was sharp, cutting. Oni severed ties swiftly, leaving no room for explanation or repair. All of Afnan’s attempts at openness were in vain; truth hadn’t been enough.
In the wake of it all, Afnan found himself staring at their reflection, the weight of his choices pressing down. He had always wanted to be the hero in his story, but now, the lines blurred. He hadn’t really cheated, had he? But that thought felt weak, an excuse he wasn’t sure he believed.
Rising from bed, Afnan inhaled deeply, exhaling slowly. The phone buzzed once more—Oni again, trying to piece together what was left. Afnan considered responding, reopening a door that led nowhere, but instead, he let the phone rest. The day stretched ahead, heavy with the consequences of what had passed.
Outside, the air was cooler, a welcome relief from the sticky heat of weeks gone by. Afnan walked aimlessly, the events of the last few months circling in his thoughts—Oni, Riz, the muddled path he had tread. Did anyone ever navigate relationships without stumbling? Was everyone just trying to find their way through, hoping not to trip over their own feet?
Afnan passed a café where a couple sat, laughing softly over coffee, their ease a stark contrast to the storm inside. Envy flickered briefly, but it faded, just like the thunder in a night of storm. Everyone had their chaos, didn’t they? From the outside, things often looked perfect, but beneath, it was a different story. Afnan certainly hadn’t seen his own unraveling coming.
An old memory surfaced—something a professor had once said about life’s choices: “We are not shaped by our mistakes, but by how we rise from them.” It had sounded simple back then, almost too easy, but now it rang true in a way Afnan hadn’t expected. They couldn’t rewrite what had happened with Oni, nor could he control Riz’s emotions, but perhaps he could find a way to move forward.
What would that even look like?
Afnan kept walking, the rhythm of his steps offering some small solace. Answers remained elusive, but for the first time in what felt like ages, the weight he carried seemed lighter. Maybe that was enough—maybe it was never about perfection, but about the willingness to keep going, even in the face of the unknown.
At the corner of the road, Afnan paused, looking down an unfamiliar street. Life, they thought, was a tangled journey of missteps and surprising turns. A faint smile tugged at their lips. Maybe that was alright.
The phone hummed in their pocket again. This time, it was Riz’s name on the screen. Afnan hesitated for a moment, thumb hovering, before slipping the phone back into their pocket. Unanswered, unresolved. And strangely, that was okay.
Not every story needs a neat ending, does it?
~ June, 2022