The routine had not changed.
If anything, it had grown worse.
Days passed inside the condo like quiet storms that never fully broke. The silence between Maya and Calvin had settled into something permanent—something that lingered in the air like dust no one bothered to wipe away.
They spoke rarely now.
And when they did, it was almost always because Maya tried to begin a conversation.
Even then, Calvin responded with short answers. Sometimes with none at all.
Sometimes he simply pretended he hadn't heard her.
At first, Maya had tried to fight the silence.
She asked him about work. About church. About his day.
"How was the office today?"
"Did the meeting go well?"
"Did you eat lunch?"
But eventually she realized something painful.
Calvin only spoke when he wanted to.
And when he didn't, nothing Maya said could change that.
The condo had become strangely divided.
Two people living in the same space but occupying completely different worlds.
Saturday evenings were usually the quietest.
There was no rush for work the next morning. No late-night church obligations.
Just time.
Too much time.
That evening, Maya sat curled up on the couch in the living room, watching a movie. The soft glow of the television flickered across the room, painting the walls with shifting light.
Beside her, Calvin lounged on the other side of the couch.
His head rested against the cushion, tilted slightly back.
His thumb moved slowly across his phone screen.
Scrolling.
Always scrolling.
Maya had long since stopped asking what he was looking at.
The movie played on.
Two characters on the screen laughed about something trivial.
Maya barely paid attention.
Her mind drifted the way it often did these days.
She was halfway through a scene when Calvin suddenly spoke.
"Esther studies petroleum engineering."
His voice cut through the quiet so unexpectedly that Maya almost jumped.
She turned slightly toward him.
He was still staring at his phone.
"She's very impressive," he added.
There was something casual in his tone. Something almost admiring.
Maya blinked once.
"Oh," she said simply.
"That's nice."
Her voice remained neutral, but she rolled her eyes slightly and turned back toward the television.
The movie continued playing.
But Maya no longer heard any of it.
Petroleum engineering.
The words echoed quietly in her mind.
She told herself she didn't care.
It was just a comment.
Just a passing remark.
Yet somewhere deep inside her chest, a small seed of insecurity had already begun to grow.
She shifted slightly on the couch and hugged a pillow closer to her chest.
On the screen, the characters laughed again.
But Maya didn't laugh.
She stared at the television without really seeing it.
The next day, she found herself thinking about it again.
She didn't know why the comment had lingered.
It was ridiculous, really.
But it stayed with her.
That afternoon she was texting an old classmate from high school. They had reconnected casually a few weeks earlier and occasionally exchanged messages about school and life.
During their conversation, he mentioned his course.
Petroleum engineering.
The words made her pause.
Her fingers hovered above the screen before she finally typed.
Is petroleum engineering more difficult than journalism and media studies?
A few seconds passed before his reply appeared.
Where did you hear that nonsense?
Maya blinked.
Another message followed immediately.
You were one of the most eloquent people in media studies back in school.
She felt her shoulders relax slightly.
Another text came through.
Journalism and media studies isn't easy. It's a completely different discipline.
Her phone buzzed again.
Petroleum engineering can be studied by people who enjoy numbers and systems. But journalism? That takes a completely different kind of intelligence.
Maya felt a faint smile tug at her lips.
Another message appeared.
Anyone who says media studies is easy is either daft or ignorant.
She laughed softly under her breath.
For the first time since the conversation the night before, the tightness in her chest eased.
They continued chatting for a few minutes before the conversation ended naturally.
When Maya set her phone down, she felt strangely lighter.
The small knot of insecurity that had been twisting quietly inside her chest loosened.
Maybe she had been overthinking.
Maybe Calvin's comment had meant nothing at all.
She pushed the thought aside and continued with her day.
Monday arrived quickly.
Mondays followed a strict pattern.
Calvin always went straight to church after work.
The youth sessions lasted for hours.
Which meant he usually returned home sometime between ten and eleven at night.
Maya had grown used to spending Monday evenings alone.
Though, truthfully, she was always alone.
That afternoon her monthly allowance arrived.
The money had been sent to Calvin as usual.
Most of it covered their living expenses.
But this time there was something important included.
Her tuition fees.
Her final exam fees.
The money she needed in order to complete the semester.
She felt relieved knowing it had finally arrived.
One less thing to worry about.
Around five in the evening, the doorbell rang.
Maya frowned slightly and walked slowly toward the door.
When she opened it, two delivery men stood outside holding a large box.
"Delivery for Calvin," one of them said.
Maya blinked in surprise.
"For Calvin?"
"Yes."
She hesitated before signing the receipt and allowing them to bring the box inside.
They placed it near the wall and left.
The moment the door closed, Maya crouched beside the box and carefully opened it.
Her eyes widened.
Inside was a bicycle.
A brand-new one.
Shiny black with silver details.
For a moment she simply stared at it.
Confusion filled her mind.
She hadn't ordered it.
And Calvin hadn't mentioned anything about buying one.
She reached for her phone immediately and called him.
The phone rang.
And rang.
And rang.
No answer.
She tried again.
Still nothing.
On the third attempt he finally answered.
His voice sounded impatient.
"I'm busy."
"Calvin," she said quickly. "A bicycle was just delivered here."
"Yes," he replied.
"It's mine."
The line went quiet for a second.
"Oh," Maya said slowly.
"You bought a bicycle?"
"Yes."
He sounded distracted.
"I'll talk to you later."
Before she could say anything else, the call ended.
Calvin returned home around ten-thirty that night.
He looked tired.
At least that's what he claimed.
"I'm exhausted," he muttered, dropping his bag near the door.
Maya watched him carefully.
"Calvin," she said gently.
"About the bicycle."
He sighed.
"Yes?"
"Since when do you like bicycles?" she asked.
He shrugged.
"For a while."
"It will save me the distance to work."
Maya nodded slowly.
"That makes sense."
Then she hesitated.
"But why didn't you tell me?"
Calvin frowned slightly.
"What do you mean?"
"We saw each other this morning," she said quietly.
"You could have mentioned it."
He leaned back and crossed his arms.
"I'm not obligated to tell you everything."
The words landed heavily in the room.
Maya blinked.
"I'm not saying you needed my permission," she said carefully.
"I just thought… since we live together…"
Calvin shrugged.
"You know now."
"It doesn't make any difference."
Maya stared at him.
Something about the conversation felt wrong.
A thought crept slowly into her mind.
"How did you afford it?" she asked.
He looked at her blankly.
"What?"
"The bicycle," she said.
"Your salary isn't that high."
"So what money did you use?"
Calvin answered casually.
"The money that was sent."
Maya felt her stomach drop.
"My allowance?" she whispered.
"Yes."
Her voice rose suddenly.
"That money includes my tuition fees!"
Calvin remained calm.
"So?"
Maya stared at him in disbelief.
"That money is for my final exams!"
He shrugged again.
"I wanted the bicycle."
"It was the money available."
Tears burned in Maya's eyes.
"You used my tuition fees without telling me?"
He looked unimpressed.
"I don't need your permission."
"I told you before that I liked bicycles."
Maya shook her head helplessly.
"You said you liked them but you couldn't afford one."
"And you said it could wait!"
Calvin looked bored.
"Well, it didn't wait."
She covered her face briefly.
"How am I supposed to write my exams now?"
Calvin stood up.
"I'm tired."
"I can't deal with this right now."
Then he walked into the bathroom and shut the door.
The conversation ended there.
Just like that.
The next day Arnold arrived.
But instead of helping, he made things worse.
"You shouldn't always point out a man's mistakes," he told Maya calmly.
"It makes you sound like you're nagging."
Maya stared at him in disbelief.
"I'm not nagging," she said quietly.
"That money was my tuition fees."
Arnold shook his head.
"Calvin has put his life on hold for you."
"You're lucky he's still by your side in your condition."
Maya swallowed.
"I'm grateful for that," she said softly.
"But the least I deserve is to know when my tuition fees are being used to buy a bicycle."
Arnold sighed, as though the entire situation were already too tiresome to discuss.
"It's already happened," he said. "There's no point going back and forth about it now."
Maya shook her head gently.
"You don't understand," she said quietly.
Her voice wasn't angry. It carried something heavier than anger.
"I'm not upset because Calvin bought the bicycle."
Arnold frowned slightly but remained silent.
"If he needed one, he could have told me," Maya continued. "We could have talked about it. We could have figured something out together."
Her hands rested quietly in her lap, fingers tightening slightly.
"I would never deny him something he genuinely needs."
She paused for a moment before speaking again.
"What hurts is that he didn't tell me. Not before. Not even after."
Arnold looked at her but said nothing.
"That money wasn't just money," Maya said softly. "It was my tuition. My final exam fees. Something important to me."
Her voice lowered further.
"And he used it like it didn't matter."
She looked down briefly before continuing.
"I'm not asking for control. I'm asking for respect."
The room grew quiet.
Arnold finally exhaled slowly.
"It's already happened," he repeated. "You should just figure something out."
The conversation ended soon after.
That night Maya lay awake in bed.
Staring at the ceiling.
Thinking about everything.
Her body felt heavy.
Her mind felt exhausted.
Emotionally.
Physically.
Psychologically.
And for the first time in a long while, she wondered quietly—
how much longer she could keep holding everything together.