2. The Admiration of Strength
The Admiration of Strength
SUNANDA
The night was warmer than I expected for early autumn, the kind of evening that lingers just long enough to let you savor it before the chill sets in.
I stood in front of the mirror, adjusting the collar of my jacket for what felt like the hundredth time, trying to calm the fluttering in my stomach.
It was just coffee, I reminded myself. Just a casual meeting with Mateo.
But the truth was, it felt like so much more.
Before committing to come back to my hometown, I secured a small, humble apartment with the savings I’d put aside over the years. It wasn’t much—just enough space for me, a couple of mismatched pieces of furniture, and a few plants I’d managed to keep alive. But it was mine.
I had spent most of the day trying to convince myself it was no big deal, but every time I thought about him picking me up, about sitting across from him in a café, I couldn’t shake the unease.
Would it be weird? Why did I feel like this was more than a simple date?
I wasn’t sure. What I did know was that it felt good to be wanted.
To feel like someone was paying attention to me in a way I hadn’t known in years.
Growing up, my family had always tried to make my deafness feel like just another part of me, something normal.
But I knew from experience that the world didn’t always see it that way.
The stares, the whispers, the awkward silences—they never really stopped.
But right now, none of that mattered. Mateo’s interest felt genuine.
And that alone made it harder to ignore the nerves twisting in my stomach.
When the knock came at the door, my heart skipped. I took one last look at myself, trying to find some confidence in the reflection, and then I opened it.
Mateo stood there, a soft smile on his face, his dark eyes glowing with a warmth that surprised me.
He was dressed casually, a gray hoodie and jeans, but somehow he looked put together in a way that made my stomach twist in an unfamiliar way.
Maybe it was the fact that he wasn’t trying too hard to impress, yet still managed to look completely at ease.
“Hey,” he said, his voice low and easy. “You ready?”
I nodded, suddenly aware of how nervous I was. Was I really going to go through with this? “Yeah, I’m ready.”
I followed him to his car—a beat-up old sedan that had seen better days.
It was strange to think of someone like Mateo working at a mechanic shop, but it made sense in some odd way.
He didn’t seem like the kind of guy who would put on a show.
I wasn’t sure what kind of show I was expecting from him, honestly. But his upfront demeanor was disarming.
As we drove, I tried to distract myself with small talk, asking him about his work at the shop and what the town was like now that I had been away for so long.
He answered with ease, though there was a certain carefulness in his tone, as if he was trying to gauge how much to share.
It was odd. I had spent so much of my life avoiding real conversations with people, trying to fit in when I never quite felt like I belonged.
But with Mateo, he didn’t try to make me feel like an outsider.
When we reached the café, it was small and quiet, the kind of place that didn’t attract too much attention but had just enough charm to make you want to stay.
We sat at a corner table, and immediately, I noticed how comfortable the silence between us felt.
It was like I didn’t need to fill the space with words.
I could just be. But still, I was nervous, unsure of how to act.
This wasn’t like any other date I’d been on—not that I had been on many.
I had once dated a professor… never again.
Mateo looked at me in a way that made me feel like he already knew who I was. And maybe he did—the old me. The version of me that didn’t feel the weight of the world so heavily on her shoulders.
We ordered our drinks, and the conversation began to flow more easily after that.
It started slow, but I could feel my nerves start to melt away as I grew more comfortable in his presence.
Then, without warning, he shifted slightly in his seat, and I noticed his hands moving in fluid, purposeful motions. He was signing to me.
I blinked, surprised, and my heart gave an unsteady flutter. It was as though the world had paused for a moment, just for us. Mateo’s signs were smooth, confident, and surprisingly natural. My pulse quickened as I followed his hands, my heart pounding in my chest.
"I’ve been wanting to ask you something," he signed, his fingers moving slowly but with meaning.
I felt a warmth spread through me as I responded, my hands trembling slightly as I formed the words. “What is it?”
He smiled, and for a moment, it felt like the whole café faded away. His gaze locked with mine in a way that made my heart race. It wasn’t just about the words we were exchanging—it was the way he made me feel, like I mattered, like I was seen in a way that went beyond just my deafness.
"I’ve always admired your strength," he signed, his fingers brushing the air like they were caressing the words. "You’ve come so far, Sunanda."
I swallowed hard, my breath catching in my throat. No one had ever said something like that to me before. My family, of course, had always been supportive, but Mateo’s words… It was as though he could see the parts of me I had hidden away, the parts I didn’t always allow myself to acknowledge.
"Thank you," I replied, my hands trembling a little as I signed the words back to him. "It hasn’t been easy."
He nodded, his expression softening as his smile grew a little warmer. "I know." His hands slowed, each sign more deliberate, as though he was choosing his words with care. "But... I’ve been watching you for a long time."
The last part came out hesitantly, like he wasn’t sure how I would react. I froze, the words hanging in the air between us. My mind spun, trying to grasp what he meant. "You’ve been watching me?" I signed, my hands trembling slightly, and shook my head in confusion.
Mateo’s smile faltered, and he looked down for a moment, as if collecting his thoughts.
When he met my gaze again, his hands moved again, but this time his movements were nervous, a little more uncertain.
"I mean... I remember watching you in school," he signed slowly, almost shyly.
"Not like... in a weird way, just... watching you. I don’t know.
You were always so strong, so different from everyone else. "
My heart skipped a beat. There was something vulnerable in the way he signed, a quiet honesty in his words that left me speechless.
“So,” I asked, after a few moments. “How did you learn sign language?”.
He paused, his fingers fiddling with the edge of his cup. Mateo smiled, but it was tight, like he was holding back. “I guess you could say I had a lot of time to learn.”
I could tell he didn’t want to elaborate. I didn’t press him. There was something about him that made me feel like I needed to give him space, even when I wasn’t sure why. Maybe it was his quiet nature.
I leaned back in my chair, watching him closely. There was something almost magnetic about him, something beneath the surface that I couldn’t quite understand. But for the first time in a long while, I felt trust. Like maybe this wasn’t just about a date—it was about something deeper.
We talked about everything and nothing—childhood memories, the changes in the town, my new job. It felt easy, like the world had shrunk down to just the two of us. When the conversation eventually lulled, Mateo pushed his cup aside and leaned forward slightly.
“You know,” he said, his voice quieter now, “I’m glad you’re back here. I didn’t think you’d come back, honestly. But I’m glad you did.”
I looked at him, a little surprised by the sincerity in his words. “I’m glad I came back too,” I said softly. “It’s... it’s good to be home, even if it’s not easy.”
Mateo smiled again, his eyes warm. “Well, I’m glad you’re here. For whatever it’s worth.”
There was no grand gesture, no dramatic moment, but the weight of his words made me feel..everything.
As we left the café, Mateo walked me to the door, his hand brushing mine in a gesture so simple, yet so full of meaning. I looked up at him, and for a moment, everything seemed to settle into place.
Maybe this was the beginning of something I hadn’t expected. And for once, I was okay with that.