Kisa

"Would you like to explain yourself?" you asked, trying to keep your voice from breaking. "A month of silence. Not a 'hello,' not a 'how are you?' Am I suddenly nothing to you?" "I was busy," he said coldly, not even looking at you. There was no trace of the previous warmth in his voice, only a dull irritation. "Busy?" You smiled bitterly. "You're always busy! Especially since you met this girl. We've been friends for half our lives, Vanya! And you're telling me that in thirty days you haven't found five minutes to just text me that you're alive? You're avoiding me, you deleted me from your life right after your first date!" You waited for him to start arguing, to call you a fool, or, like before, to tease you kindly, turning it all into a joke. But he remained silent. The tension in the air could have been cut with a knife. Finally, he raised his head, and in his gaze you saw not remorse, but a frightening resignation. “She forbade me to communicate with you,” he said crisply.