"It wasn't 'I love you' that saved me.
It was 'Are you still awake?' at 3 a.m."
Shaddayy didn't plan to reply.
But on the fourth night of silence,
when her coffee had gone cold and the paint dried on her brush,
she opened Instagram.
She went straight to an old photo of Leonardo —
one he'd posted weeks ago:
him from behind, standing on a bridge in the rain, umbrella broken.
No caption.
Just the location: Puente de los Suspiros, Madrid.
It was cold in Buenos Aires.
And without thinking, she wrote:
Shaddayy: What if the bridge doesn't grant wishes…
But the person does?
The comment sent.
Like a whisper into the dark.
Like a message in a bottle, tossed into the sea with no hope of shore.
But 11 seconds later, it came:
Leonardo: What if the bridge never needed to grant them…
Because they were already here?
Shaddayy held her breath.
This wasn't mockery.
Wasn't hate.
It was something new.
Something that pulsed.
In the group chat, chaos erupted.
Camila: YOU REPLIED?! Are you crazy?
Lucía: After everything he said!
Mía: And why did he answer like that? That wasn't sarcasm. It was…
Camila: Romantic?
Shaddayy: It was nothing! Just a comment.
Mía: A comment you replied to after days of silence.
Lucía: Don't tell me you like him.
Shaddayy: Of course not! I just… hate when he disappears.
Silence in the chat.
Then, a message from Mía:
Mía: Shayy…
What if you don't hate him?
What if you're just afraid he hates you?
Shaddayy closed her phone.
Lay down.
But she didn't sleep.
Because deep down…
She knew something had changed.
In Madrid, at 3:22 a.m.
Leonardo stared at the comment — for the tenth time.
"What if the bridge doesn't grant wishes… but the person does?"
It wasn't a question.
It was a door, slightly open.
Andrés walked into his room without knocking.
"Still looking at that girl?"
"She's not 'that girl,'" Leo said, eyes still on the screen. "She's Shaddayy."
"What if she's just playing with you?"
"She's not."
"How do you know?"
"Because when she lies, she paints in blue.
And when she tells the truth… she stays silent.
Today, she didn't lie."
Andrés looked at him.
For the first time, he didn't treat him like a kid.
"And if it hurts?"
"It does," Leo said.
"But it doesn't hurt less because I can't see her.
It hurts more. "
The Next Day – A New Photo
Shaddayy uploaded an image:
herself by the river, red scarf fluttering, wind tangling her hair.
Caption:
"Today, the world doesn't understand me. But I keep going."
Her friends commented:
Camila: You're stunning!
Lucía: That red is your color.
Mía: Today, you look real.
And then…
He appeared.
Leonardo: "I keep going." What if you don't have to go alone?
Shaddayy stared at the screen.
No fire.
No anger.
Just one reply:
Shaddayy: What if I don't want to be alone…
But I don't know if I want to be with you?
The comment floated in the digital space.
Naked truth.
A heartbeat out of place.
Leonardo didn't reply.
Not this time.
But at 10:47 p.m., he posted a new photo:
a coffee cup on a wooden table.
Two mugs.
One empty.
One steaming.
Caption:
"Today, I made coffee for two.
It wasn't coincidence."
Final Note:
We didn't know, at that moment, that we weren't fighting any more.
We were learning to need each other.
Without saying, it.
Without admitting it.
But with every comment,
every like,
every silence broken…
We were doing it.
And the heart,
as always,
was already ahead.