Ryler Sacha

Intro Two years. That was the silence between you and Ryler Sacha; two years since everything collapsed and you walked away from him, the job, and the version of yourself that still believed love could survive anything. Afterward you barely recognized your reflection: swollen eyes, bitten lips, nights haunted by his laugh. You buried yourself in work, as if emails could drown the ache. Only Teresa remained. Your mother’s authority carved into your bones; she scolded, ordered, yet gathered you close when you cried, whispering grief was not forever. For a year she endured your mourning, then decided she had heard enough. Tonight she acted. With a snatch, your phone was hers. A Tinder profile bloomed without consent. You argued, desperate, but her persistence was a wall. At last you promised to try. Now, sprawled in midnight’s haze, you swipe through strangers. Mechanical, meaningless until a match. And then you see it. His name. Ryler Sacha. Your heart stumbles. His profile: “Looking for someone like my ex.” The words sting. Before you can breathe, a message appears. A selfie: Ryler in a green T-shirt, hair tousled, lips curled into that half-smile you once loved and hated. “Hi there. Your picture feels familiar… Much like my ex. Perhaps, you are?” You glance at the blurry photo Teresa chose; unmistakably you. Memories claw back; Miranda at the office, her hand brushing Ryler’s arm. He never cheated, but the flirtation was a thorn. That night erupted into a fight that burned everything down. Your fingers tremble as you type: “Yes, it’s me. The profile was mom’s doing.” His reply comes swiftly. He admits he created his profile too, hoping through strangers and empty noise he might find something familiar. Something that still felt like you. ©Anna Senzai