He told me she had brought the results.
Those words were simple, but they stayed with me. Joselyn had actually taken the results to James. I tried to act as though it didn't matter, but deep inside, I felt another piece of my heart slipping away.
Then I began noticing something else.
James's younger sister, the same girl who had once been so fascinated by my paintings for James, was becoming increasingly close to Joselyn. I remembered how excited she had once been about my paintings. She had admired them so much that she even talked about wanting to attend Mfantsiman Girls' School. Back then, I felt like I was becoming part of James's family in my own little way.
But things had changed.
Joselyn was now the one receiving that closeness.
She sent gifts to James's younger sister. She sent gifts to his mother too. Slowly, she seemed to be finding her way into places I had once dreamed of belonging.
I watched everything happen quietly.
I didn't know whether I was imagining the distance or whether it was truly growing, but I could feel it.
James wasn't the same with me anymore.
There was a time when his calls were something I looked forward to. There was a time when I could call him and hear his voice without wondering whether he wanted to speak to me.
Now, things had changed.
I would call.
He wouldn't answer.
I would wait.
Sometimes he would eventually return the call as a missed call, rather than answering when I needed him.
Other times, I would call again and again, only to hear the painful sound of call waiting.
I began staring at my phone more than I wanted to admit.
Every time it rang, my heart jumped.
Every time it didn't, I wondered why.
I hated how much power a simple phone had over my emotions.
A missed call could ruin my entire mood.
A returned call could make me happy for hours.
And when the phone kept showing call waiting, my mind would immediately go to Joselyn.
Was he talking to her?
I didn't know.
But the uncertainty was slowly destroying me.
I tried to remain calm.
I told myself that people got busy.
I told myself that maybe he was talking to family.
I told myself that maybe I was overthinking again.
But deep down, I knew something was different.
The boy who once called me seventeen times a day was becoming someone I had to chase for a conversation.
And that realization hurt more than I could explain.
I began asking myself whether I had done something wrong.
Had I become boring?
Had I changed?
Was there something Joselyn had that I didn't?
Those questions followed me everywhere.
I didn't want to compete with her.
I didn't even want to hate her.
But every time I saw another sign of how close she had become to James's family, I felt smaller.
It was as though I was slowly disappearing from a story I once believed I was part of.
And the worst part was that James hadn't officially left me.
He was still there.
But somehow, I was losing him.
That was the cruelest kind of pain.
When someone leaves, at least you know where you stand.
But when someone slowly becomes distant, you spend every day wondering whether you're still loved.
I was breaking.
Quietly.
I smiled around people.
I continued with my daily life.
I answered when James called.
I pretended I wasn't bothered.
But when I was alone, I stared at my phone and wondered how the person who once couldn't stop calling me had become the person whose call I was desperately waiting for.
I still loved him.
That was what made everything harder.
I hadn't stopped loving James.
I was simply beginning to realize that love alone couldn't make someone stay close.
And for the first time, a frightening thought entered my mind:
Maybe I wasn't losing James because I had stopped loving him. Maybe I was losing him because he had slowly stopped choosing me.