"Unspoken Goodbyes"

Dylne took a steadying breath, her pulse still racing. She could feel Father Maverick’s intense gaze on her, a mixture of familiarity and distance. In the quiet between them, her mind scrambled for something to say, something that would mask the turmoil twisting inside her. Before she knew it, her old habit resurfaced—a math question, just like she used to ask him in school whenever she needed an excuse to talk to him.

“Father,” she began, her voice still shaky, “can you explain… If we have a series where the sum of the terms is increasing, but the sequence of individual terms itself doesn’t have a common ratio or difference… how do we define convergence?”

The question tumbled out, half-formed and nervous, but it filled the silence. Father Maverick’s expression softened, ever so slightly, as he listened to her. She thought she saw a glint of amusement in his eyes, but it was gone as quickly as it had appeared. He nodded, as though he’d been expecting something like this, his face returning to that composed, formal demeanor that she remembered so well.

“Convergence of a series can be complex, Dylne,” he answered, his tone even, the low rumble of his voice filling the empty space between them. “If the terms don’t have a consistent ratio or difference, you look to the behavior of the partial sums. If, as you approach infinity, the sums approach a finite limit, then you have convergence. But the conditions must be examined carefully, depending on each case.”

His explanation was straightforward, exact, with none of the warmth she had once longed to see from him. It was almost mechanical, as if he were simply following a script. Yet the familiarity of his voice, the cadence of his words, stirred something deep within her.

For a moment, Dylne tried to focus on what he’d said, but it felt distant, technical, like a mask. Her heart pounded in her chest, loud and unrelenting, drowning out the carefully composed explanation. She hadn’t come here for a lesson. Not tonight. The question that had haunted her for so long, the one she’d buried deep in her heart, suddenly surged to the surface, impossible to contain any longer.

“Why didn’t you come back?” she whispered, her voice breaking. “You said you would. You told me you’d come before I graduated. But you didn’t. You just… left.”

Her words seemed to hang in the air, heavy and filled with years of confusion and quiet hurt. She forced herself to meet his gaze, the storm of emotions in her chest breaking free. She had been waiting for him that entire last year, hoping that he would return, that she would see him one last time before she stepped into a life without the certainty of his presence. But he had disappeared, leaving her with an ache she had never fully understood.

Father Maverick’s expression shifted—almost imperceptibly. For a brief moment, she thought she saw a shadow of regret pass over his face, but he remained composed, his voice measured as he replied.

“There were… obligations, Dylne,” he said carefully, each word placed as if chosen for its weight. “I was assigned to handle matters in a distant province. They required my full attention, and I had to see them through. The nature of my work often calls for this kind of duty. I didn’t choose it, but I am bound to follow.”

Dylne’s hands clenched into fists as she took in his words. She knew that his work as a priest and a teacher often took him away, but this explanation felt hollow somehow, as if there was more he wasn’t saying, something deeper beneath his formal tone. She wanted to press him, to demand the truth, to ask if he ever thought about her, or about the promise he’d left unfulfilled.

She glanced down, her vision blurring as memories of waiting, wondering, and hoping washed over her. She wanted to believe that he hadn’t simply forgotten her, that she hadn’t been just another student he’d left behind without a second thought.

“But you… you didn’t even say goodbye,” she murmured, her voice trembling. “You knew how much I—” Her words faltered, the sentence unfinished.

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