The requests didn’t stop.

At first, Ryan only mentioned it casually.

:::

RyanCarter88: I realized something today.

EmilyP: What?

RyanCarter88: I’ve heard your thoughts almost every day for the past few weeks…

RyanCarter88: But I’ve never actually seen your face move while you laugh.

I stared at the message for several seconds.

My fingers hovered above the keyboard.

EmilyP: Maybe that’s why our conversations are still interesting.

Ryan replied with a laughing emoji.

RyanCarter88: Nice save.

RyanCarter88: But seriously…

RyanCarter88: I’d love to see you.

My heartbeat quickened.

EmilyP: Someday.

RyanCarter88: Why someday?

EmilyP: Because today isn’t a good day.

Ryan didn’t push further.

RyanCarter88: Fair enough.

RyanCarter88: I’ll wait.

:::

I let out a long breath.

He believed me.

Again.

But relief never lasted long anymore.

Every excuse bought me another day…

…and made the truth even heavier.

A few days later, Ryan brought it up again.

This time his tone felt different.

Less playful.

More curious.

:::

RyanCarter88: You’re starting to feel like a mystery.

I smiled nervously.

EmilyP: Is that a bad thing?

RyanCarter88: Depends.

RyanCarter88: Are you hiding something?

My smile disappeared.

My stomach tightened instantly.

For several moments I couldn’t answer.

Then I finally typed.

EmilyP: Aren’t we all?

Ryan stayed offline for nearly five minutes.

Those five minutes felt like an hour.

When his reply finally appeared, I almost wished it hadn’t.

RyanCarter88: Maybe.

RyanCarter88: But I don’t want us to keep hiding behind screens.

RyanCarter88: Let’s do a quick video call tonight.

I stared at the message.

My pulse began racing.

No.

Not yet.

Think.

Think fast.

I glanced around my tiny apartment as though an excuse might suddenly appear somewhere inside it.

Then I looked at the cracked corner of my old phone.

Not broken enough.

But believable enough.

My fingers moved before I could overthink it.

EmilyP: I wish I could.

EmilyP: My camera’s acting up.

EmilyP: I dropped my phone earlier today.

Another long pause.

Ryan’s typing bubble appeared…

…disappeared…

…then appeared again.

RyanCarter88: You’re having really bad luck with that camera.

I forced myself to smile even though nobody could see me.

EmilyP: Maybe it just doesn’t like me.

Ryan responded with another laughing emoji.

RyanCarter88: I guess I’ll have to forgive your camera.

I smiled weakly.

Maybe this was over.

Then another message arrived.

RyanCarter88: But eventually…

RyanCarter88: I’m going to win.

I frowned.

EmilyP: Win what?

RyanCarter88: A video call.

I laughed despite myself.

EmilyP: Confident, aren’t you?

RyanCarter88: Very.

RyanCarter88: Because people who genuinely enjoy talking don’t stay strangers forever.

That sentence stayed with me long after the conversation ended.

Over the next week, our conversations became even deeper.

We talked before work.

During lunch breaks.

Late into the night.

Sometimes we discussed books.

Sometimes music.

Sometimes childhood memories.

Ryan remembered everything.

He remembered my favorite color.

He remembered how I hated thunderstorms.

He remembered I preferred tea over coffee.

He even remembered that I once mentioned loving old bookstores more than shopping malls.

Nobody had ever paid that much attention to me before.

And that made what I was doing hurt even more.

Every kind word he gave…

…felt stolen.

Every compliment…

…felt borrowed.

Every smile…

…belonged to someone else’s face.

The guilt became harder to carry.

One evening, Ryan sent another message.

It wasn’t playful this time.

It was direct.

:::

RyanCarter88: Can I ask you something honestly?

EmilyP: Of course.

RyanCarter88: Why are you afraid of letting me see you?

I froze.

Ryan continued before I could answer.

RyanCarter88: You always have a reason.

RyanCarter88: Bad lighting.

RyanCarter88: Busy day.

RyanCarter88: Broken camera.

RyanCarter88: I respect your privacy.

RyanCarter88: I really do.

RyanCarter88: But…

RyanCarter88: Sometimes I feel like you’re keeping me at arm’s length.

My chest tightened painfully.

I wanted to tell him.

I wanted to confess everything.

I wanted to type the truth.

Instead…

EmilyP: I’m just shy.

Ryan replied almost immediately.

RyanCarter88: I don’t think that’s it.

I closed my eyes.

He was beginning to see through me.

Nearly ten minutes passed without another message.

I wondered if he had finally given up.

Then my phone vibrated again.

RyanCarter88: Then let’s stop hiding behind screens.

RyanCarter88: Let’s meet in person.

I stopped breathing.

My fingers went cold.

I read the message again.

And again.

Meet in person.

There was no broken camera for that.

No poor internet connection.

No convenient excuse.

This was real.

And deep inside…

I knew everything was about to change.

I stared at Ryan’s message for what felt like forever.

RyanCarter88: Then let’s meet in person.

The words refused to disappear.

My fingers hovered over the keyboard, but nothing came.

A meeting.

Not another conversation.

Not another carefully crafted reply.

Not another excuse I could hide behind.

A real meeting.

I swallowed hard as my heartbeat echoed inside my ears.

If we met…

Everything would end.

I slowly typed.

EmilyP: That’s… a little fast, isn’t it?

Almost immediately, three dots appeared.

Then his reply came.

RyanCarter88: We’ve been talking for weeks.

He wasn’t wrong.

Weeks of conversations.

Weeks of laughter.

Weeks of sharing stories before going to bed.

Weeks of pretending.

Another message appeared.

RyanCarter88: Honestly… I’d rather meet you than keep imagining who you are.

I stared at the words.

Imagining.

That was exactly what he had been doing.

Imagining Samantha.

Not Emily.

I closed my eyes briefly.

This had gone too far.

I forced myself to reply.

EmilyP: Can you give me a little more time?

There was a much longer pause this time.

When his answer finally came, it wasn’t angry.

It wasn’t demanding.

It was calm.

Too calm.

RyanCarter88: I’ll wait.

Another message followed.

RyanCarter88: But I don’t want us to build something that’s only real through messages.

My throat tightened.

Then came one final sentence.

RyanCarter88: If this is going somewhere, we have to stop hiding eventually.

I stared at the screen until it blurred.

He wasn’t trying to pressure me.

He was simply asking for honesty.

Something I couldn’t give him.