"The hardest things are said in the smallest hours, when the world is asleep and there is no one left to perform for." ~ Unknown
After Selina left, Michael unpacked his suitcase. He folded the clothes he had just packed, sliding them back into the drawers. When he was finished, he changed into slim-fit cargo pants and a grey vest.
Downstairs, the noise of the party filtered up through the floorboards. Laughter, music, the clink of glasses. He wasn't in the mood to entertain.
He left the lamp on, its warm glow softening the edges of the room, and lay down on the bed. His hands folded behind his head, his gaze fixed on the ceiling.
His thoughts drifted.
He had never fallen for anyone. Not in high school, when his classmates were passing love notes and nursing crushes. Not in university, when relationships formed and dissolved around him like seasons. He had watched it all from a distance, curious but never tempted. He had assumed, for a long time, that he wasn't built that way. That love was a language he couldn't speak.
It had never bothered him. He liked his life, the quiet routines, the freedom of solitude, the absence of drama. He saw the way people like Rory chased after affection, trading comfort for chaos, and he felt nothing but relief that he wasn't one of them.
But Selina…
He turned the name over in his mind. He had known her for three years in high school, but he couldn't say he had known her. She was the daughter of the chairman, the centre of every room, the kind of person who existed in a different orbit. He had noticed her like everyone, but he never wanted to get close.
So why now? Why, after all these years, did she feel different?
He wasn't even sure what he felt. Was it attraction? Friendship?
She had come to his room, stood in his doorway with red-rimmed eyes, and asked him to stay. She had looked at him like he was the only person she needed.
He closed his eyes, but sleep didn't come. The thoughts kept circling. There was no use fighting it.
An hour passed. Maybe more. The house had grown a bit quieter. Michael lay in the half-dark, his lamp still burning, his mind still restless.
Then came a knock.
Soft. Hesitant. He opened his eyes.
"Come in."
The door opened slowly. Selina stepped inside.
"Were you sleeping?" she asked.
He sat up. "No. I was just lying down."
"Everyone went to freshen up. We're planning to set up a bonfire in a while."
"I see."
"Won't you come?" She asked, hoping he would.
"I'm not sure. I thought I would go to sleep since it's already late."
"Come on. Please." She hesitated, then added, "I know I ruined the day for you, but since we're all going to part anyway, I wanted to make this night memorable."
Michael looked at her for a moment. Finally, with a slight helpless smile, he stood up from the bed.
"Guess I don't have a choice."
"Great!" Selina replied cheekily. Then she sat down on the edge of his bed. Michael looked at her, confused.
"Aren't you going?"
"There's still some time. Can I stay here until everyone gathers?"
"Sure," Michael replied, a little awkwardly.
Just then, Selina's phone dinged. She glanced at it. A message from her mother. Nothing important, but enough to make her chest tighten. She tapped the profile icon, and a photograph opened, her mother standing in the snow, smiling brightly.
Michael noticed the shift in her mood. "What's wrong?"
He sat down beside her on the bed.
"Nothing. Just my mom's message." She held up the phone. "See, doesn't she look beautiful in this picture?"
Michael studied the image. A woman with Selina's eyes, her hair swept up elegantly, a genuine smile lighting her face. "Yeah," he said. "She does."
"Do you remember her? She used to visit the school sometimes." Selina's thumb hovered over the screen, not quite touching it. "I once fought with her. In front of everyone."
Michael waited.
"I made a huge scene. I was upset because she wanted me to go to a wedding where I didn't know anyone. I said no. So she asked my father to make me go, and he couldn't argue with her." She paused. "The next day, she came to school. She told me to come straight home because we had to leave in a few hours. I was stubborn. I said I was going out with friends and I'd be back on time."
Michael listened without interrupting.
"She scolded me. Said I was forgetting my manners. It escalated. She told me to shut up, that we weren't at home. I stopped. I left in anger. When I got home, my father scolded me for acting like that at school. He said that just because he founded the school doesn't make it our living room."
She locked her phone and set it aside, her hands empty now. "My relationship with her is… complicated. Sometimes I wonder if she even loves me."
Michael was quiet for a moment. Then he said, "Don't think like that. No mother stops loving her child. It's not possible."
Selina shook her head. "There are exceptions. When I was small, I remember walking with her, holding her hand. I remember the warmth in her eyes. But those memories… They're fading. I don't see her that way anymore." She swallowed.
"I started smoking around that time. High school was ending, and things with her kept getting worse. Now it feels like she's my stepmother. She just… keeps up appearances."
Michael looked at her, then at the dark screen of her phone where her mother's face had been. "Give her time. Maybe she's going through something you don't know about. A mother's love doesn't just disappear. If you remember it, then it was real. It's still there, somewhere."
Selina's eyes glistened.
"Try not to fight with her," he continued. "If being together makes things worse, give yourselves space. But don't give up on her." He hesitated, then added, "One day, you'll both figure it out. Trust me."
Selina stared at her phone for a long time. Then she set it aside and let out a slow breath.
"You really think so?"
"Yes."
She turned to look at him, his calm grey eyes, his steady presence. For the first time in a long while, she believed someone.
"Thank you," she said quietly.
He gave her a small smile.