Max's POV
The moment I stepped inside, I knew something was off.
My mom stood in the living room, arms folded, her expression unreadable. She wasn't yelling—yet. That was the scariest part. The silence.
"So," she said, her voice calm, "he's back."
I looked away. I knew exactly who she meant. "Yeah… Ram. He came back a few weeks ago."
She let out a slow sigh and sat down, brushing her hand across the edge of the table like she was touching a memory. "You remember how close our families were back then? He was like a son to me. Always polite, always helping. His mom and I shared everything…"
Her voice softened for a second, and I saw the ghost of a smile.
"…And yet, the moment I saw you look at him today, Max…" Her tone shifted again. "I saw something else. I saw pain. That's what made me upset."
I swallowed hard. "Mom… that was a long time ago."
"I know, dear. But I'm your mother. I saw the way your hands shook when he spoke to you. I saw the tears you wiped away when you thought no one was looking. That's not something I can ignore."
I sat down beside her, not knowing how to explain something even I hadn't fully understood. It wasn't just a crush. It was a whole story built in silence—chapters of smiles, missed chances, and the ache of not being chosen.
"I never told him," I whispered. "I never said a word. He didn't even know."
Mom turned to me, placing her hand gently over mine. "Maybe that's why it hurts more."
I nodded slowly. "But Ram's mom… she doesn't know. About any of it."
"She shouldn't," Mom said quickly. "It's your story, not theirs. I don't want you to suffer again, Max. Not because of the past."
There was a long pause. Then Mom smiled again—this time, real and full of warmth. "Still… he was a good boy. A very good boy."
I couldn't help but smile too. "Yeah… he was."
The unspoken truth hung between us. Maybe he still is. But the past is a fragile thing—beautiful, broken, and sometimes better left untouched.
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