A Language of Their Own

They had been passing notes in cipher since high school—an inside joke that had become a language of its own.

Years later, at a gala filled with chatter and clinking glasses, a napkin lay folded beside the silverware, covered in familiar symbols.

Fingers trembled slightly, smoothing the paper. Breath caught as the message revealed itself. “I’ve missed you.”

The air in the room thickened. A pulse quickened. Eyes lifted, scanning until they met a gaze across the room.

A glass lifted in silent acknowledgment. A smirk, just the same as always.

The world blurred at the edges. A slow exhale. A smile that started small but spread, warmth blooming in its wake.

Some messages were worth waiting for.