The workshop was quiet that night.
The low hum of the speakers, the scattered notes on the table, the half-finished project everything around Alfred felt like a reflection of his heart: unfinished.
He leaned back in his chair, eyes on the blinking lights of his sound mixer. Normally, music was his escape. But tonight, even the melody refused to come.
Timi walked in, tossing his car keys onto the table.
"Guy, you never go house?"
Alfred forced a smile. "Not feeling sleepy."
Timi studied him quietly. "You've been like this for days now. Na Splendour?"
Alfred's eyes flickered up for a second before he looked away. "She's been distant. Calls are shorter. Texts are rare. I keep telling myself it's just stress, but… it's more than that."
Timi sighed and sat beside him.
"You've done everything right for that girl, Alfred. Maybe you should breathe a little. Give her space."
Alfred shook his head slowly. "I gave her years, Timi. I waited through school, through silence, through distance. You don't just give space to someone who once promised forever."
He stared at his phone again her last message still unread.
The same Splendour who used to call just to hear his voice now vanished behind excuses.
He laughed bitterly, trying to fight the sting in his chest. "Funny thing, Timi… I still pray for her every night."
Timi put a hand on his shoulder. "You're too good, bro. But love shouldn't break a man this way."
Alfred nodded, swallowing hard. "Maybe. But I'd rather break loving her than heal hating her."
Silence filled the room again, thick and heavy.
He picked up his guitar, strummed a few soft notes the same song he wrote for her three years ago. The sound trembled, fading into the night.
Outside, the rain began to fall.
Inside, Alfred sat still a man holding on to the memory of a girl who was slowly letting go.