# Chapter 2
A Distance That Never Really Existed
Raveena woke with an uneasy feeling that hadn't even had time to acquire a name.
It wasn't because she'd slept badly.
Nor was it because her alarm had gone off too early.
The cause sat on the little table beside her bed, in the form of a phone she'd deliberately left facedown since last night.
She knew exactly what was waiting for her there.
Two messages from Gavian.
Two sentences far too simple to make someone lose focus all night.
I wasn't actually in Karetiga because I was hungry.
I just wanted to see you.
Raveena stared at the ceiling.
"Great," she muttered.
No one answered.
She pulled the blanket over her face.
Five seconds later, she threw it back off.
Avoiding her phone wouldn't erase the messages.
Deleting the messages wouldn't make her forget them, either.
The real problem wasn't even Gavian's words.
The problem was the small part of her that felt happy when she read them.
That was what bothered her most.
Raveena reached for her phone.
6:17 a.m.
No new messages.
She opened her conversation with Gavian.
The last messages were still the same.
No question mark.
No explanation.
No attempt to save the words by adding something like because I happened to be nearby or because I wanted to discuss work.
Gavian had simply left everything as it was.
As if Raveena was free to interpret it however she wanted.
Or maybe there was nothing to interpret.
She typed:
Why?
Her thumb stopped above the send button.
No.
Too direct.
She deleted it.
Typed again:
You're weird.
Delete.
And?
Delete.
Raveena let out a loud sigh.
She hated conversations that made her think too hard about what to say.
In the end, she locked her screen and got up.
Shower.
Get ready.
Work.
Three things far simpler than deciding what to say to a man who already had a partner but claimed he'd come only to see her.
The road to The Typing Room was more crowded than usual.
Raveena stood inside public transportation with one hand gripping a pole and the other holding her bag.
Her phone vibrated.
She didn't need to look to feel tense.
But she looked anyway.
Mirel: Don't tell me you're late again.
Raveena replied at once.
It's only a little after seven.
Mirel: Trauma from last week.
Raveena: I was eight minutes late.
Mirel: Reyhan looked at the clock fourteen times.
Raveena snorted softly.
At least it wasn't Gavian.
For some reason, that made her feel relieved and disappointed at the same time.
An infuriating combination.
She put her phone in her bag and forced herself to look out the window.
The buildings of Jantara moved slowly behind the glass.
Shops just opening their doors.
Vendors arranging their goods.
People walking quickly, their faces already looking tired even though the day had barely begun.
Raveena liked mornings like this.
There was no room for too much thinking.
Everyone had to keep moving.
Everyone had somewhere to go.
Unfortunately, thoughts didn't always care about schedules.
Gavian's words surfaced again.
I just wanted to see you.
Raveena pressed her lips together.
She wished she could be angry.
It would be much easier if she were angry.
"Morning."
Mirel was standing near the break room when Raveena arrived.
"Morning."
Mirel checked her watch.
"7:56."
"Why?"
"Proud of you."
"I always get here before eight."
"Not always."
Raveena set her bag on her chair.
"If you keep bringing up those eight minutes until the end of the year, I'm blocking you."
"Go ahead. We're sitting four meters apart."
Raveena turned on her computer.
Mirel didn't leave.
That alone was a bad sign.
Raveena pretended not to notice.
She opened her email.
Checked the revisions.
Opened the manuscript she'd left unfinished yesterday.
Mirel was still beside her desk.
Raveena finally turned to her.
"What?"
Mirel crossed her arms.
"So?"
"So what?"
"Don't play dumb."
"I'm not playing."
"Yesterday."
"A lot happened yesterday."
"Gavian."
The name made Raveena look away too quickly.
A mistake.
Mirel immediately narrowed her eyes.
"Oh."
Raveena looked back at her. "Oh, what?"
"So something happened."
"Nothing happened."
"You always say that before you tell me something."
"I've never even told you anything."
"Your face tells me more."
Raveena started typing without really reading what was on the screen.
Mirel pulled over an empty chair and sat down.
"Did he come?"
"Yeah."
"Why?"
"He said he was hungry."
Mirel was silent for a moment.
Then she laughed.
Raveena shot her a sharp look.
"What?"
"All the way from Sagara to Karetiga because he was hungry?"
"Maybe he likes toast."
"Raveena."
"What?"
"If a man is willing to sit in traffic for forty minutes for toast, he needs to be checked out."
Raveena didn't answer.
Mirel's smile disappeared.
"Was there more?"
"No."
"Rave."
Raveena turned her attention back to the screen.
She had no intention of telling Mirel about last night's messages.
That was the plan, at least.
Until Mirel said, "He said something, didn't he?"
Raveena closed her eyes for a moment.
Damn it.
"He texted me."
"What did he say?"
Raveena was silent.
Mirel leaned a little closer.
"What?"
"Don't be dramatic."
"I haven't reacted yet."
"Your face already has."
"Raveena."
Raveena lowered her voice.
"He said he hadn't actually come because he was hungry."
Mirel didn't blink.
"And?"
"He said he just wanted to see me."
Silence.
One second.
Two.
Three.
Mirel stared at her as if she'd just heard a criminal confession.
Raveena raised one finger.
"Don't."
"I haven't said anything."
"Don't make that face, either."
"I'm just processing."
"There's nothing to process."
"There's a lot to process."
Raveena leaned back.
"Maybe he just—"
"Don't."
Now Mirel raised a hand.
Raveena fell silent.
Mirel looked straight at her.
"Don't help him come up with excuses he hasn't even given himself."
The words hit exactly where they needed to.
Raveena looked away.
"I haven't replied."
"Good."
Raveena turned to her quickly. "Good?"
"Yeah."
"Usually you're the one telling people to communicate."
"When the situation is clean."
"Situation?"
"He's still with Talitha."
That name again.
Raveena swallowed something bitter, even though she hadn't had any coffee yet.
Mirel continued more quietly.
"I know you haven't done anything, Rave. But situations like this can shift before you even realize it."
"I know."
"You sure?"
Raveena looked down at the desk.
"I know."
Mirel didn't answer right away.
She only gave a small nod.
"If you know, that's good."
Then she stood.
Before leaving, Mirel tapped the desk once.
"Don't answer if you don't know where you want this to go."
Raveena watched her walk back to her own desk.
It was good advice.
The problem was that Raveena knew exactly where everything could go.
And that was the biggest reason she was afraid.
At 10:20, Raveena's phone vibrated again.
She was reading chapter six of a manuscript when Gavian's name appeared on the screen.
Morning.
Raveena stared at it.
Just one word.
No mention of last night's messages.
She didn't reply.
Three minutes later:
Was I out of line last night?
Raveena sighed.
Mirel was talking to Nadena and wasn't paying attention to her.
Raveena typed slowly.
A little.
The reply came almost immediately.
Sorry.
That was all.
Raveena read it again.
She should have felt relieved.
Gavian had apologized.
The conversation could end.
They could go back to how things had been before yesterday.
But then another message came in.
But I wasn't lying.
Raveena stared at the screen longer.
Her fingers felt cold.
She typed:
That's the problem.
This time Gavian didn't reply right away.
One minute.
Two minutes.
Five.
Raveena tried to get back to work.
She couldn't.
Then her phone vibrated.
I get it.
For some reason, that answer irritated her.
She typed faster.
No, you don't.
Three dots appeared.
Disappeared.
Appeared again.
Explain.
Raveena stared at the message.
Should she?
Maybe she should.
She looked around.
Everyone was busy.
Then she wrote:
You have Talitha. I don't want there to be any habits or conversations between us that make everything look different from what it should be.
She read it over.
Too stiff.
But true.
Send.
Gavian didn't answer for nearly ten minutes.
Raveena started regretting her words.
Then:
What if I told you everything really is different now?
Raveena's chest immediately tightened.
She didn't answer.
Another message followed.
Not because of you.
Then:
Talitha and I haven't been okay for a long time.
Raveena closed the conversation.
No.
She didn't want to read any further.
Because words like that were dangerous.
Too easy to use as a doorway.
My relationship isn't okay anymore.
We're just hanging on.
I haven't actually been happy for a long time.
All of it might be true.
But the truth didn't automatically make Raveena's position right.
She put her phone in a drawer.
Ten minutes later, she was still thinking about what it said.
At lunchtime, Raveena deliberately went out alone.
Not to Three Chairs.
She chose a restaurant two blocks from the office.
It was more crowded, noisier, and the chances of running into Gavian were almost zero.
She ordered rice and chicken soup, then sat at a table near the wall.
Her phone stayed in her bag.
"Raveena?"
The voice came from beside her.
She turned.
A woman stood there holding a tray.
It took Raveena a fraction of a second to recognize her.
"Talitha?"
Talitha smiled.
"Can I sit?"
The world had a terrible sense of humor.
Raveena nodded quickly.
"Yeah. Go ahead."
Talitha set her tray across from her.
Today she was wearing a light-blue shirt and black pants. Her hair was tied low. There was nothing excessive about her appearance.
She still looked polished.
She still looked like someone whose life knew where it was going.
"Are you working on a project around here?" Raveena asked.
"Yeah. There's a site being renovated two streets from here." Talitha opened her spoon. "You work around here, right?"
"The Typing Room."
"Oh, right. I remember."
Raveena gave her a small smile.
She hoped her hands didn't look as stiff as they felt.
Talitha started eating.
There was nothing awkward about it.
That was exactly what made Raveena even more uncomfortable.
"I've actually been meaning to stop by your office," Talitha said.
Raveena frowned. "Why?"
"I wanted to find a book for my mother. Gavian said the shop downstairs from your office had a pretty good selection."
The name sounded different coming from Talitha's mouth.
More natural.
More rightful.
Raveena looked down at her food.
"It's pretty good. If they don't have something, they can usually order it."
"I'll stop by sometime."
"Sure."
Talitha stirred her drink.
"Do you two still see each other often?"
Raveena stopped.
The question was asked without suspicion.
Casually, even.
Too casually.
"We do?"
"You and Gavi."
Raveena forced herself to look normal.
"Sometimes."
"He likes Karetiga now."
Raveena gave a faint smile.
"He says he likes the food."
Talitha chuckled.
"He said that?"
Raveena looked at her.
"Why?"
"Gavian's too lazy to take a different route home from the office. That's why I've been wondering why he's been coming through here so often lately."
Raveena's spoon stopped in midair.
Talitha didn't seem to notice.
Or maybe she had noticed and chosen not to show it.
"Once he likes a place, he can become a regular," Talitha continued.
Raveena didn't know what to say.
Fortunately, Talitha soon changed the subject.
They talked about work.
About clients.
About renovations.
About how annoying revisions from people who didn't actually know what they wanted could be.
The conversation was even enjoyable.
And the more Talitha charmed her as a person, the worse Raveena felt about herself.
Before they parted, Talitha stood and adjusted her bag.
"If you have time sometime, we should get coffee."
Raveena hesitated.
"Sure."
Talitha smiled.
"Seriously. I don't often have friends who work in the book world."
"Yeah."
"Okay. I'll get going."
"Take care."
Talitha left.
Raveena sat in silence.
Half her food was still there.
Suddenly, she'd lost her appetite.
The phone in her bag felt like something far too heavy.
She took it out.
There was one message from Gavian.
If you want, I'll explain later.
Raveena typed immediately.
No need.
She sent it.
A few seconds passed.
Why?
Raveena looked toward the door Talitha had just walked through.
Then she wrote:
I just had lunch with Talitha.
Less than a minute later, Gavian called.
Raveena stared at the screen.
She let it ring.
It stopped.
The second ring came in.
She still didn't answer.
A message appeared.
Rave.
Then:
Can you pick up?
Raveena gripped her phone tightly.
No.
She didn't want to be someone hiding in the corner of a restaurant to take a call from the partner of the woman who had just sat across from her.
She typed:
Don't call me right now.
Then she turned off her data connection.
That afternoon, it rained.
Not heavily.
Just enough to wet the streets and make the air colder.
Raveena went home earlier than usual.
She didn't stop anywhere.
Not at Three Chairs.
Not at the convenience store.
She went straight to her apartment.
After showering, she sat on the couch with her hair still half-wet.
Her phone lit up again after nearly four hours without a connection.
Eight messages came in.
Two from her family group chat.
One from Mirel.
Five from Gavian.
Raveena opened the latest conversation.
Sorry for calling so many times.
I was just afraid you'd misunderstand.
A few minutes later:
But maybe there's no way to explain this without making everything sound wrong.
Then:
I never meant to drag you into my relationship problems.
The last message had been sent almost an hour ago.
If you want me to keep my distance, I'll try.
Raveena read that sentence three times.
I'll try.
Not I will.
Not I understand.
I'll try.
As if keeping his distance were something difficult.
That shouldn't have made her heart beat faster.
But it did.
Raveena set her phone down.
Walked to the kitchen.
Got some water.
Came back.
Her phone was still the same.
No new messages.
She sat down.
Five minutes.
Ten.
Twenty.
Finally, Raveena gave in.
She typed:
We really should keep our distance for now.
Send.
There was no immediate response.
Raveena stared at the screen, holding her breath without even realizing it.
One minute.
Two.
Then:
Okay.
That was all.
Raveena should have felt relieved.
She'd gotten what she wanted.
No argument.
No persuasion.
No attempt to change her mind.
Just one word.
Okay.
Strangely, that word hurt the most that night.
For the next three days, Gavian really did keep his distance.
No good-morning messages.
No photos of food from the office with pointless comments.
No asking whether Raveena was still working late.
No sudden appearances in Karetiga.
Nothing.
On the first day, Raveena felt calm.
On the second, she began to realize how often her hand reached for her phone on reflex.
On the third, she was angry at herself.
She sat at Three Chairs after work, facing the empty chair across from her.
Luni came over with her coffee.
"Alone, miss?"
Raveena looked at her.
"I'm usually alone."
Luni looked as if she was about to say something, then chose silence.
A smart decision.
Raveena opened her laptop.
Tried to work.
Fifteen minutes later, she'd only fixed two sentences.
The café door opened.
The bell rang.
Her head lifted automatically.
It wasn't Gavian.
An old man came in carrying an umbrella.
Raveena immediately lowered her gaze.
Idiot.
She hit backspace harder than necessary.
"Mad at your laptop?"
Mirel's voice came from beside her.
Raveena nearly jumped.
"What are you doing here?"
Mirel pulled out a chair.
"I came to see the person who claims she's doing fine."
"I'm fine."
"Sure."
Mirel called Luni over and ordered a drink.
Then she looked at Raveena.
"Three days already?"
Raveena pretended to focus on her laptop.
"What?"
"Gavian."
"Why does everyone have to talk about him?"
"Because you've been meaner for the past three days."
"I'm always mean."
"Not this mean."
Raveena closed her laptop.
"He hasn't contacted me."
Mirel nodded.
"Wasn't that what you asked for?"
"Yeah."
"So?"
"So nothing."
Mirel rested her chin on her hand.
"You miss him?"
Raveena shot her a sharp look.
"Mirel."
"Simple question."
"No."
"That was a fast answer."
"Because the answer is no."
Mirel didn't believe her.
It was obvious.
But this time, she didn't push.
"Then that's good."
Raveena sighed.
She looked at the street through the window.
Vehicle lights reflected off the wet pavement.
"If we know something is wrong," she said quietly, "it should be easy to stop, right?"
Mirel didn't answer right away.
"Should it?"
"Yeah."
"Who says?"
Raveena turned to her.
Mirel toyed with the straw in her glass.
"Knowing something is wrong doesn't make the feelings disappear automatically."
Raveena was silent.
"But," Mirel continued, "feelings don't get to make every decision, either."
That was the hard part.
Raveena knew.
She just hoped knowing was enough.
At nine that night, Raveena was already in her apartment when the doorbell rang.
She frowned.
She hadn't ordered food.
Savia never came without warning.
Raveena walked to the door and looked through the peephole.
There was no one there.
She opened the door slowly.
A paper bag sat on the floor.
Raveena looked down the hall.
Empty.
She picked up the bag.
Inside was a book.
An old novel she'd told Gavian about a few weeks ago.
Raveena had even forgotten that conversation.
The book was hard to find in print. She'd once said she wanted it because she liked the cover design of the old edition.
A small slip of paper was tucked inside.
Handwritten.
I bought this before you asked us to keep our distance. So don't get the wrong idea.
Below that:
You don't have to reply.
Raveena stared at the handwriting.
So Gavian.
Even while trying to stay away, the man still found a way to be present.
She carried the book inside.
Sat on the couch.
Opened to the first page.
There was a used-bookstore stamp.
The purchase date was four days ago.
The day before Raveena had asked for distance.
She closed the book.
It should have been over.
She didn't need to contact Gavian.
Didn't need to thank him that night.
She could do it tomorrow.
Or not at all.
Then Raveena looked at the little note again.
You don't have to reply.
For some reason, that was the sentence that made her open her phone.
She opened her conversation with Gavian.
There had been no messages for three days.
Raveena typed:
The book arrived. Thank you.
She was about to hit send when she stopped.
She added:
But don't do something like this again.
She read it over.
Then deleted the second sentence.
Send.
The reply didn't come.
Five minutes.
Ten.
Raveena put her phone down.
Maybe Gavian was already asleep.
Maybe he really was keeping his distance.
Maybe—
The screen lit up.
You're welcome.
Another message came in.
I won't bother you.
Raveena bit the inside of her cheek.
Then:
But if you ever change your mind about that distance, tell me.
Raveena stared at the screen for a long time.
She didn't answer.
Not that night.
But for the first time, she understood something she'd been trying to avoid all along.
Distance wasn't the real problem.
Because Gavian could be far away from her and still fill her thoughts.
And maybe love in the wrong place didn't always begin with a touch, a kiss, or a confession.
Sometimes, it began much more simply.
With someone who stopped coming around.
And only when he was absent did we realize how much space we'd already given him.