Amra recognized the voice before looking up. At a meeting about restoring the pier, the new consultant asked for the shoreline plan. It was Faris, eight years older and more careful with his words. Back when they planned to marry, he had spoken too quickly, convinced every problem could be solved by going to the sea.
Then he received an uncertain job offer abroad. Amra's family convinced her not to leave steady employment for his plan. She suggested waiting. Faris heard that as a lack of trust and left without a new agreement. Both had other relationships afterward, but each carried the same unfinished argument as proof they had been loved less.
Now they greeted each other formally. Faris was kind to everyone and especially cautious with Amra. Her colleague thought she interested him and asked whether he was single. Amra said she did not know, although she had spent almost an hour the previous evening looking through public photographs of his travels.
During a site visit, the van was late. The others went for coffee, leaving Amra and Faris beside the water. He asked whether she still lived in the family apartment. She said she had moved out six years earlier and ran her own office. Then she added that she made decisions differently now. Faris replied that some people had waited too long to find that out.
Amra looked at him. She said he did not have to wait; he could have asked. She had not called either, proud of her own hurt. Eight years were not her family's doing alone. Part belonged to them, to every message they had written and deleted. Their colleagues' return interrupted them before they found a more polite ending.
That evening, a voice message arrived. Faris said he had come to the meeting ready to prove how well he was doing. Now he cared more about finding out whether there was room to know her again. He mentioned neither marriage nor lost years. He suggested a walk on Saturday and left enough silence for her answer not to feel expected in advance.
Amra listened to the invitation once. On Saturday, they walked along the new waterfront and talked about lives they had not shared. They did not try to resume exactly where they had stopped. Faris now liked rising early; Amra liked traveling alone. When they parted, he kissed her only after she moved closer. Her mother later called to ask how the day had gone. Amra said it had been lovely. She did not ask what that meant she should do tomorrow.