GENERATED USING AI
The sweet aroma of chicken sauce, sizzling and hot, filled the dinning, beckoning on Noah to consume. It had always been his favourite. But somehow, tonight, the smell of it felt sickening.
His mom, Mary was almost done serving, when his brother Ethan walked in, hands intertwined loosely to the beautiful lady beside him in a casual but affectionate display of partnership.
“Everyone, this is Mira, my fiancee,” Ethan announced proudly, grinning from ear to ear.
Noah felt it before he even saw her. The sudden ache in his chest, Her presence had always been so magnetic. When he finally looked up, spoon half way into his mouth. Time stopped for a few minutes. The world spun around him. It couldn't be. Mira, Alive.
His parents beamed at them, welcoming her with a warm smile. They exchanged pleasantries, shared hugs. Complimented her dress. But Noah was nowhere near home. He was lost in the memories of them. Their eyes met for a fraction of a second. And in that moment, Mira stiffened a little, her eyes wide with shock. Which quickly glazed over, dissolving into a look of devastating regret. She glanced away quickly, and forced a smile. But he noticed. The same way he had always noticed the little things about her, How her eyes widened when she smiled, Or the way her nose flared whenever she laughed.
Noah couldn't breathe. It was all too much.
Standing before him was a ghost. The woman he had grieved in his heart for so long. He had carried her absence, like a heavy weight all these years. But she was alive, well and hearty. Mira had left seven years ago. Not a single call, no goodbye, no letter, not even a way of contact. She gave him nothing. He had searched for her for years. Went to all the places she could be in. Contacted her friends but all to no avail. She had vanished without a trace. Her number stopped existing and eventually, she became a loss without a body. To survive the pain, he told himself the only logical explanation that he could fathom, she was dead.
Only now she wasn't.
The dinner went on, chairs were adjusted, the delicious chicken sauce, which was their mother's favourite recipe was served. Everyone dug in. Only Noah could barely eat it. A thousand thoughts running through his mind. All the words he wanted to say filled his lips, waiting to be spoken out. Where have you been? Why didn't you tell me or contact me? Did you know I mourned you like the dead? Did you know what losing you did to me?
Instead he passed the salt.
Their fingers brushed for a split second. She flickered her gaze to him, The guilt he saw in them was almost suffocating. A thousand apologies she held in a single gaze. She wanted to say, She was scared, and foolish. She wanted to tell him, running away felt easier. A love like theirs would have destroyed them both. But instead she kept silent. Hoping her eyes could convey the things she didn't say. Noah looked away this time. Still trying to make sense of it all.
“You guys looked good together,” Mary complimented.
It stung, Beneath the table, Noah clenched his fist. His jaw tightening as he watched Mira intertwine her hands with Ethan. Laughing at something he said. He sucked in a breath. That sound, all too familiar. How he had missed it so much. Only that laughter wasn't for him.
The dinner went on, Noah’s parents, and Ethan oblivious to what was going on. They both acted like everything was fine, normal. But the tension brewing underneath was palpable. Each afraid to say the things that needed to be said. Or probably the timing wasn't right. The circumstances could not allow them to say the words hanging on each of their lips. The least they could do was steal glances at one another, hoping their eyes could cover the things they couldn't say
When dinner came to an end, Good byes were said, hugs were given. Ethan smiled happily, satisfied as he held Mira by the waist, a subtle display of possession.
“Bring her home more often,” Mary said.
Noah cringed. He stood at the doorway, hands in his pocket, a forced smile framing his face.
She walked out the door with Ethan, sparing Noah one last final glance, a silent apology swimming in its depth.
But still, the most important things remained yet unsaid. Hovering heavily between them.
But this time, Noah knew she was alive.
Sometimes, it isn’t what we say that changes everything.
It’s the things we didn’t say.