Chapter 31 - Relearning the Rhythm

Chapter 31: Relearning the Rhythm

Rebuilding didn’t start with a big gesture.

It started with a shared calendar.

Ivan created it one night, quietly, color-coded and clean.
He titled it “Us.”

Sent her the link with just one line:

For all the moments we forgot to make time for.

She didn’t reply immediately.

But when she did, it was with an invite:

Game night this Saturday? Just you and me. Old-school Monopoly and trash talk.

He smiled. Added it in green.

They didn’t try to force closeness.

Instead, they relearned each other.

She’d changed.
Her job was more demanding now.
She used to love silence. Now, sometimes, she needed to talk things out — even if they led nowhere.

He adjusted.

He’d changed too.
More expressive, in his own quiet way.
He no longer waited for the “right moment” to say how he felt. He just… said it.

And she listened. Really listened.

One evening, he picked her up from work. Nothing planned. Just walked with her, side by side, until their legs were tired.

At the void deck near her block, she turned to him.

“You know what I realized?”

“What?”

“We stopped sharing our wins. Somewhere along the way, we only talked when things were wrong.”

He nodded slowly. “I noticed that too.”

“I missed your thoughts,” she said. “Your strange Ivan-thoughts. The ones that make no sense at first and then suddenly explain the universe.”

He chuckled. “I’ll send you a voice note tomorrow. One theory per day.”

She smiled. “Make it two.”

They started messaging more — but not out of obligation.

Sometimes it was a photo.
Sometimes a quote.
Sometimes just a line like, “Today was hard. But thinking of you helped.”

And somehow, those tiny updates stitched them back together.

A month into their new rhythm, Ivan brought her to a low-key dinner with ABIX.

No big introductions. Just one extra seat at the table.

Aleem chatted with her about encryption.
Isabelle asked about her booklist.
Crystal offered her a spoon of dessert without asking.

And Ivan just watched — quietly proud.

His world wasn’t split anymore.

That night, she told him, “Your friends are wonderful.”

He nodded. “They’re part of how I found my way back to us.”

In his notes app later that night:

Growth doesn’t always mean going far. Sometimes it just means turning back — with new eyes, with more patience, with a full heart.
And choosing again.
Always choosing again.