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I spotted Zunair at a restaurant some time after. "Zunair!" I yelled out.
He turned, saw me, and tried to turn away quickly but I caught up to him and grabbed the sleeve of his leather jacket.
He had always looked so good in leather jackets.
"Zunair, what's wrong? Why are you ignoring me?" I hated how small and weak my voice sounded, but it always did that when my heart beat faster. When my heart was bracing itself to be wounded again.
He looked around and sighed. Didn't look into my eyes. "Sarah, I need to be alone for some time."
I stepped back. "Why?" My eyes watered, and I hated it. I hated myself for being that way. "What is it that you can't tell me?"
He looked down at me. His jaw clenched, then unclenched, and finally he sighed and brought a hand up to my cheek. And everything around me became warm and fuzzy again. My tears halted, my heart slowed its palpitations against my rib cage. "I don't want to talk about this here." He looked around at the restaurant pointedly.
"Okay." I rushed to say. "I can talk anywhere. Just tell me. You're not replying to my calls or texts. I've been freaking out the past few days because—"
"Sarah." His voice was laced with exasperation, and immediately my heart stopped.
"Yes?" I whispered.
"Just give me some time, okay?" He cupped my cheek again, and it felt like a familiar promise. So I smiled hesitantly, eyes still watery, and he backed away slowly.
I grabbed his hand before he went and he turned around to look.
Before I let go of his hand slowly. The ghost of a smile on my face.
As I watched him go, I realized an agonizing truth: I felt like my heart was attached to a string that was tied to people's feet.
And every time they walked away, they took my heart with them.
