A familiar Stranger

Clifford was a very good friend of mine, a very nosy one. He gave out my contact to Roland, a friend of his friend because he felt we were a good match, without my permission. When he was done with the matchmaking, he showed me pictures of my “match”. He was light-skinned, tall and very handsome, with a nice body build, not excessive, just perfect. We talked for a few days, and then fixed a date to meet.

I remember the first time we met: the bike stopped at the roadside, leaving me standing in the open, with my phone pressed to my ear as it rang from his call. I scanned my surroundings, trying to make sense of where I was, but the only clear path led to a wide, open, sandy football field stretching between me and wherever Roland was waiting. The sun had started its descent, casting long shadows across the dry grass.

“Just keep walking straight”, his voice came through the phone, warm and teasing; “Can’t you see me?”

I squinted, searching the distance, but all I saw was the soft blur of the fading daylight.
Yeah I think I can see your silhouette now. I could not see his face but I could tell he was as handsome, or even more than the pictures I had seen.

He laughed. “The whole World can see me except you”, he said as he walked across the field. I shook my head, smiling to myself. If the whole world could see you, you would disappear; that is too many eyes on one person.

“I would not disappear”, he said playfully. “I would love to be somewhere everyone can see me.”
We were both walking, now, moving towards each other across the empty field. The air was thick, a little dusty, with the quiet hum of the evening. The earth beneath me was soft but uneven.

I don’t like that, I admitted. I don’t like being in the spotlight.
“Why not?” His tone was curious, amused. “To be seen; is not a bad thing.”
Yes, it is not bad. I just don’t want all that attention. It feels… overwhelming, I answered.
“Look at celebrities,” he argued. Everyone sees them all the time. They don’t disappear.

I smirked, shaking my head even though he couldn’t see that. It is not the same thing. None of them is seen by everyone in the world at the same time. It's like scattered vision, Millions of people, yes, but not all eyes on them at once, and certainly not physically.
“Hmm,” he mused. “So you wouldn't want to be famous?”

Not in the way that makes me feel like I am standing in the middle of a stage with nowhere to hide, I said honestly. I can be seen… by the right people, at the right time.
He let out a thoughtful hmmm. “I think I would like to be seen. Like fully seen. No hiding, no waiting for the right time.”

I smiled. That’s where we are different.
Our voices carried across the phone and open air, blending into something surreal. Step by step, the distance between us closed. His figure sharpened against the dusky backdrop, the golden glow of the evening settling around us like something out of a movie, just as the sun set behind him.

Finally, we met in the middle of the field, right there, where the world felt quiet and time felt slow.
A soft chuckle. A lingering gaze. Too shy to hug each other, we pretended not to want to.

Without a word, we started walking back to his place, side by side, the call ending, it was no longer needed.
It was simple. It was unexpected. And yet, it was magical.

At his house, the air inside was warm and welcoming, like it knew someone was coming. It carried his scent, the quiet hum of a space that belonged to him. I stepped in, taking in my surroundings. I reached for a chair, his chair apparently, but before I could settle and sit, before I even had time to notice him behind me, I felt his hands on me.

In one swift, effortless move, he flipped me from behind, catching me completely off guard. A surprised gasp left my lips, my body instinctively tensing as he guided me into another chair, this time facing him directly.

For a moment, I just stared at him, breathless from the sudden movement and slight shock. His hands lingered for a second, steadying me before he leaned back into his chair, watching me with a satisfied smirk tugging at his lips.

“That chair means something to me,” he said, as though that explained everything.
I could only shake my head, amused yet intrigued, my body buzzing from the unexpected flip. You could have told me instead of flipping me like that, I said pouting.

He chuckled, his eyes glinting with mischief. “Where is the fun in that?”

We talked about everything and nothing at all. Our words filled the space between us, and we conversed effortlessly. It felt so natural, as pieces of ourselves unravelled, pulling us closer in ways neither of us had anticipated. The more we spoke, the more I saw him, and the more he saw me. It was like finding a missing part of myself in someone else, a strange chemistry neither of us could ignore.
At some point, we found ourselves standing on the balcony. The night stretched endlessly before us, the city below twinkling with lights like fallen stars. The houses were scattered dots of warmth in the darkness, their glows pulsing like quiet heartbeats. The air between us had changed.

It wasn't just chemistry anymore, it was something heavier. Something dangerous.
I could feel it, in the space he didn't leave between us, In how low his voice had dropped, softer, heavier and more intimate. In the rhythm of my slowing breath. In the way my fingers tingled with the need to touch him.

And then …
“Hug me,” he said.

His voice was soft but also dominant. Beneath it, a slight hesitation and something unspoken.
I hesitated for only a second, looking up at him before turning to face him. The moment I wrapped my arms around him, I heard it, his heartbeat. Rapid and strong, thrumming against my own chest. My breath caught in my throat. My own pulse, once steady, was now hammering wildly.
And then… his arms came around me.

His hands were warm as they slid over my back, gripping me a little tighter, as though he didn't want to let go. That was when I felt his hands shaking, and then his shoulders dropped as his body relaxed.

It wasn't just me. He was feeling it too, this thing between us, this unbearable pull, was real. We stood there for what felt like forever, just holding each other. But when I finally let go, trying to pull away, his grip tightened.

“Is that all?” He murmured against my hair. “Hug me longer.”

Something about the way he said it, low and seductive, sent a tremor down my spine. So I did, I leaned in and held him tighter. And in that moment, I knew there was no escaping this. I had found my safe space. I wanted to be able to return to those arms when the world was harsh, or when the world had turned its back on me.

Suddenly, he pulled me back, just slightly, just enough to look at me. And before I could react, his lips pressed gently against my forehead.
Then my left cheek and my right cheek.
And then …
His lips found mine. Soft, slow, searching.
“Soft and sweet,” he murmured between my lips, and I couldn't help but blush.

The world around us blurred, everything else fading into the background. The only thing I could feel was his mouth moving against mine, coaxing, deepening.
Desire crashed over us like a tidal wave, unstoppable, consuming.

His hands were everywhere, exploring, gripping, learning. My own hands weren't idle either, tracing the shape of him, feeling the way his body responded to mine. Our breaths were uneven, heavy, mingling in the space between stolen kisses.
We lost control.
Before I knew it, we stumbled back inside. The balcony door shut behind us, locking the night out, leaving only us, only this. And that was the genesis.

Roland was not cruel. He was kindhearted, far too kind.
The kind of Man, who saw the bruises on your soul and praised your strength without asking how long you’d been bleeding.
He didn’t want to hurt me, but he didn’t want to fight for me either. And I? I wanted to be loved, not saved, not admired. I wanted to be loved fully, recklessly, and honestly. But he… he hesitated. He held himself back.

And hesitation is its own kind of heartbreak. It calmly tears you into pieces.

I kept making myself smaller. Narrowing down my truth, shrinking my needs, hiding my vulnerability like he could only handle love in doses. All because I was desperate, I was in love.

He liked my fire, from a distance, but he never stepped into it.
Somewhere along the line, silence became our language. We stopped asking the hard questions, we stopped leaning in. We just held hands and walked down the lonely road of knowing.
Knowing it would end, knowing he wouldn’t choose us.
So we chose peace, we never fought, we never screamed, we just slowly stopped.
He once said, “You deserve the world”. But he never tried to be it, or give it.

Today we have a dinner date at 6:00pm.
Is he going to end it?
What’s on his mind?
He can do it over the phone... Should I go?
So many thoughts flooded my mind after I received his invitation text.

I put on my lovely dinner gown. I’ve had it for 3 years now, tags still on. It was a gift from Mabel, but I never had a reason to wear it, until today. If he’s going to end it with me, I might as well look gorgeous… and unaffected.

I got to our table, and his face said it all. My heart was beating fast, I could feel it in my stomach. I shouldn’t have come, I said to myself.
Roland asked me to order what I wanted. He had already ordered some yoghurt for me, he knew how much I loved it. After we placed our order, he held my hand across the table, looked into my eyes and said:

“Anastasia I am sorry.
I’m sorry for not being intentional,
For not treating you like the princess you are.
You are such an amazing woman yet,
I’ve been taking your love for granted.

I take responsibility for my actions, and I want to treat you the way you deserve, from today.
I want to make you happy. Please, give me a second chance.”

Am I dreaming? No, I must be dreaming, I pinched myself in disbelief, tears dropping from my eyes, Roland was asking me for a second chance. “I mean it this time,” he said looking into my eyes with a softness I had never seen before.

I smiled and said, Yes. Let’s try a second time… and let’s give it our best.
The rest of our time together was filled with laughter and the hope of a new beginning. I was happy. And he was happy too. He made so many promises, and I couldn’t wait for him to begin fulfilling them.

In the car, as we were driving home, he said he had just realized that he loved me more than he knew, that I was his happiness. I had lost count of how many times my ears and cheeks turned red from blushing.

When he dropped me off and left, I screamed, jumped, and danced out all the excitement I had been holding in. I took a shower and prepared to go to bed. I texted him, asking if he had arrived home and freshened up. He didn’t respond. After a few minutes, I texted him goodnight, assuming he might have fallen asleep. I was too excited and didn’t fall asleep two hours later.

In the morning, I checked my inbox, he still hadn’t viewed my messages. Maybe he’s still asleep, I thought. I got ready and went to school. Anytime I had a chance, I checked again.

School ended by 4 PM… and still nothing. Did he lie to me? What was all that yesterday? He couldn’t even try for one day? I was angry. I refused to believe Roland would treat me this way.
I dialed his number.
It was switched off.
I felt so wronged.
So I decided to ignore him too.
I didn’t deserve this kind of treatment.
Three days later, still no call. No text. Nothing.
So I decided to go to his house, even though I knew I wouldn’t get in unless he called his estate security. When I got there, just as I expected, they refused me access and his line was switched off.

I sat outside, hoping I’d see his brother or neighbors, someone I could ask about him. After two hours of waiting without luck, I started to leave. But then, luckily, I met his neighbor on my way out. He said he hadn’t seen Roland for about three days.

Had something happened to him? What exactly is going on? Did he abandon me? I was scared. Worried. Angry. Disappointed. I didn’t know which feeling was right.

I kept texting and calling, but I couldn’t reach him. I visited all the clubs where he played snooker, he wasn’t there. They had not seen him in a while. I went to his work place, and I was told he hadn’t been at work. They refused to give me more information.

Everywhere I turned was a dead end. I gave up after two weeks of searching, hovering around his estate and workplace like a stalker.

It was the last day of our exam, the exam that had started a month after the last time I saw Roland. It had been a month of stress and pressure. My friends and I were on our way to celebrate five years of hard work in the university.

When we got there,
Audrey nudged me. “Is that not Roland?” she said.
“Is that the woman he left you for?”
Before she could finish her sentence, I dashed out forgetting everything, rushing to meet him. I pounced on him and hugged him tight. But it only lasted a few seconds before he yanked me off his body.
I was excited.
You’re alright!! I thought something had happened to you!
But then… I noticed his gaze. “Who are you?” he yelled.

Caught off guard, I shivered. Wait what? I didn’t hear that right did I? Was it because of this woman? Who is she? I retorted.
He was shocked. But why?
Roland, you left me exactly two months ago! You disappeared into thin air after promising me the world!
Do you know how lost and miserable I’ve been, wondering, praying that you were ok and you show up with another woman… shamelessly?

He looked lost and confused, and I couldn’t get it.
“I don’t know you,” he said. “Babe, I don’t know her. I swear. Get into the car, lets leave.”
They got into the car, and they left.

“Ana… Ana… Ana…” Mabel called. They’ve gone, let’s go.” “Ana…”
I’m sorry. I want to go home.

Two weeks later I met Larry, Roland’s younger brother. I pretended not to see him and walked past. But he followed me and stopped me. “We need to talk” he said. I was hesitant, but we had always been on good terms. He hadn’t wronged me, so I followed him.

“Roland had an accident on the night of January 20th , 2024” he began. I froze. That was the night I saw him last, before he disappeared.
“He suffered a severe brain injury, broken ribs and other major injuries. He had multiple surgeries and just fully recovered recently.”
I shook my head, confused and overwhelmed. He could’ve just told me calmly when we met, instead of behaving like that.
“Yes he told me about that” Larry said, “That’s why I asked to talk to you, so I could explain everything.

“Roland developed Retrograde Amnesia as a result of the brain injury. The only reason he knows I’m his brother is because we told him. When he woke up, he couldn’t recognize anyone of us. Our mom was heartbroken. Slowly we began reintroducing him to everything, to his name, his family, his life.”

“Ana… Roland truly doesn’t remember you. And… he’s fallen in love with Betty, our family friend’s daughter. She was there for him throughout his recovery. That’s how they bonded.”

He paused.

‘I am telling you this because I know how much closure matters. Please, Ana. I hope it’ll be easier for you to move on now, so please do.”

Easier?
Would it be easier?
I would’ve been there for him if I had known.
“Would you have left your school?” Larry asked gently. I was speechless.
“Ana, don’t regret anything, just accept that this is fate. Take care of yourself, I’ll be off now.”

Would it have been better if he just stayed away forever?
Would it have been better if I never saw him again?
Why did he have to fall for another?
Did his heart forget me too? Could I have won him over again?

Two months later, I run into Roland at the supermarket. All the memories came rushing back. But he didn’t even look at me twice.
I would’ve been content if he remembered me as that crazy girl who pounced on him.
But no. Just like me, he didn’t register the faces of strangers who meant nothing. Meanwhile, his face, his scent, was etched in my memory.

I still think of that field sometimes.
He was home, for a moment, but not for a lifetime.
I still think of that date night and all that we could have been. I still think of how happy and enthusiastic he was when talking about treating me like a princess.

Some loves are meant to be held, not kept.
Lessons learned.
A deep breath before the tears come.
Sitting in my room reminiscing, I think of how Fate played a cruel joke on me. It let me experience a love so rare, and at the point of blooming after winter, it snatched it so brutally from me.
Now, I’m a stranger to the one person who once made my world turn.