I see Ayush get up and walk away, not waiting for a response, not caring. Nevertheless, it will take more than running into him at a bar to convince me to meet him for breakfast. Ayush gets into the elevator and checks his watch. Just as the shiny gold inlaid doors are about to close, he sticks his hand out to stop them.
"And shave the beard. It doesn't suit you as much as you think it does," he ends, leaving me alone as he is taken to his floor.
I do not think I am going to go. I have nothing to say to him. What do you say to someone who published a book about one of your deepest relationships for the whole world to read? Nothing. I wish him the best, but that doesn't mean I want to be included in his future. I thought I had made myself clear when I left his house that night.
As I tip the bartender and go back up to my room, I think about all the times I had wanted to reach out to Ayush. The times I just had to accept that he wasn't in my life anymore. There were so many things I wanted to tell him, but it doesn't matter anymore. None of it matters anymore. He doesn't know that just until a few years ago, I looked at his Instagram once a month and stalked him till I felt like I knew him as well as I did during high school.
While I get into bed and put my phone on charging, I think about the most recent time I looked at his social media. He had been in Rome with his younger brother; they were sharing some sort of pasta. I could disagree with some of the things Ayush did, but I had to admit that he lives his life to the fullest and didn't give up even after all he went through. Setting my alarm for 7:30 and drifting off to sleep, I know that this run-in won't matter because I won't meet Ayush for breakfast tomorrow.
YOU ARE READING
The Six Types of Love
Teen Fiction"I'm sorry I drove away that night Ayush. I'm so sorry. My life paused the moment I left and seeing you today was the first time it felt like I pressed play after twelve years. I was a dead man walking around waiting for you to come barging back lik...
