In the car, a few minutes into the ride…
Kalix finally broke the silence. and said "Thank you... for earlier. With the kid."
She gave a small, gentle smile and said .."He just needed someone to listen. We all do, sometimes."
Kalix nodded slowly and said.."You're good at it. Making people feel heard."
She looked at her hands and said..."Maybe because I know what it feels like... when no one does."
The air shifted, softening the silence. It wasn't awkward anymore. Just… quiet understanding.
After a while...
Kalix said...."Do you always carry that much inside you?"
He thought about asking her.
About the snow.
About the day he almost died.
About her hands holding onto him like her life depended on it too.
But looking at her now—so calm on the outside—he knew… it wasn't the right time.
He had waited for almost a year. He could wait longer.
He stole small glances at her, trying to decode her thoughts.
Why is she so quiet now?
What silenced her?
He didn't know.
But he was sure of one thing—
She wasn't always like this.
And whatever had dimmed her… he wanted to be the reason she lit up again.
She just looked out of the window. Quietly. Like always.
And he kept glancing at her, the way someone would try to read a language they once knew but had forgotten over time. She wasn't giving anything away—her face calm, like still water. But he could sense it… something beneath.
She once used to talk so much. He didn't know that for sure, but he could feel it—like a melody that's now been silenced. Her silence wasn't empty. It was full. Full of stories never told, words buried deep, tears she never let fall in front of anyone.
He adjusted in his seat, hesitated, then spoke again, softer this time. Like speaking to a wound.
He said..."You're quiet now… but I feel like you weren't always like this."
She didn't look at him. Just gave a small, broken smile. and said ..."I wasn't. But when you talk too much… people start leaving."
His heart sank at that. There was no bitterness in her voice. No blame. Just a tired acceptance.
He wanted to say something—anything—but for the first time in a long time, he felt like words weren't enough. So he just looked at her, quietly promising himself…
This time, I won't leave.
Even if you never say another word… I'll stay.
And beside him, she kept staring out the window, not knowing that someone finally saw her—even in her silence.