Chapter 35 - In the Quiet, He Asked
Chapter 35: In the Quiet, He Asked
The messages were all read, but not replied to.
That was the first sign.
Isabelle wasn’t the fastest texter, but she always responded — eventually. To Crystal, to Ivan, to Aleem. Even a one-word answer. Even an emoji.
But this time, nothing.
Three days.
No voice notes. No memes. No softly worded “I’ll reply later.”
Aleem didn’t say anything in the chat.
He just messaged her privately:
You okay?
No response.
So he waited a while, then sent again:
Not asking for an essay. Just a ✅ if you’re still breathing.
Fifteen minutes later, a single checkmark emoji appeared. Then:
I’m tired, Aleem. Not sad. Not unwell. Just… very tired.
He didn’t send back advice. Or questions.
Just one line:
Where are you now?
She replied: Tampines, in between lessons. There’s a break before my 6PM kid.
Twenty-five minutes later, he showed up.
She was at a quiet kopitiam, earbuds in, planner open in front of her, marking worksheets with a red pen. A half-finished teh peng beside her, condensation dripping down the plastic.
She didn’t notice him until he placed a second drink next to hers.
Her eyes lifted — surprised, but not startled.
“Aleem?”
“Your handwriting gets messier when you’re stressed,” he said, pulling out the seat opposite.
She blinked, then laughed softly. “That obvious, huh?”
He handed her the drink. Her favourite bubble tea.
“You once told me this was your ‘between-classes recharge’.”
She nodded. “Thank you.”
They didn’t talk immediately.
After a while, she closed her file. Let out a slow, tired breath.
“I’m not crashing,” she said. “But I’m fraying at the edges.”
Aleem listened.
“It’s not the kids,” she continued. “It’s… everything around it. The parents, the admin, the prep, the guilt when I’m not performing miracles. And I know I chose this path, but… sometimes I feel like I’m giving so much away that I don’t know what I’m keeping for myself.”
Aleem leaned forward, resting his arms on the table.
“You’ve always been the type to care until it hurts. But Belle, caring shouldn’t mean emptying yourself.”
She didn’t respond right away.
“I think I’m scared,” she whispered. “That if I stop caring — even a little — I’ll stop being useful.”
Aleem shook his head gently.
“You’re not loved because you’re useful. You’re loved because you’re you. Even when you’re tired. Even when you don’t reply to texts. You don’t owe any of us perfection.”
Later, as they walked toward her next tuition centre, she looked at him and said,
“Thanks for showing up.”
Aleem smiled. “That’s what we do for each other, right?”
She stopped just before the building’s entrance. “Sometimes I feel like you always know when I need someone. Even when I don’t ask.”
He shrugged. “Sometimes, it’s not about knowing. It’s about being close enough to feel the silence.”
That night, Isabelle sent a message in the ABIX chat:
“Just wanted to say thanks. For always being around. I’m okay. Just… remembering how to rest again.”
Crystal: We love you, tired or not.
Ivan: Take your own advice for once, Belle.
Aleem: And don’t forget — we’re not just here when you’re shining. We’re here when you’re flickering too.
In his notes app that night, Aleem wrote:
The strongest ones won’t always ask for help. But they’ll remember who noticed anyway.
And Isabelle? She teaches even when she doesn’t realise she’s teaching us how to care better.