Love Left Unexpressed

The night before, I was chatting with my best friend about how to confess my feelings to Jorge Carter, the most popular guy in school.

The next day, my friend Arya Carter, with a radiant smile, linked arms with Jorge and said to me, "Sorry, we're together now!"

1.

Arya hesitated as she spoke to me, "Jorge... he confessed to me, and I agreed." She looked a bit anxious and uneasy. "Di, I know you have a crush on him, but... "

She held my hand, "Diana, you won't blame me, right?"

I wasn't too surprised. A handsome guy and a beautiful girl were a match made in heaven.

But that night, I hid under my blankets, the cold moonlight streamed through the window, casting a chill over the room, and cried myself to sleep, stifling my sobs.

The next day, Arya and Jorge walked side by side.

She was nibbling on a bread, tilting her head to talk to him, her lips slightly pouting as if she were being playful.

Jorge looked at her with affection, ruffling her hair and using a tissue to wipe her mouth. Then he gently tapped her nose and whispered something.

Suddenly, Arya saw me, her eyes lighting up as she ran over.

Jorge frowned, his eyes showing displeasure.

Arya grabbed my arm, full of concern, "Diana, didn't sleep well last night? Your eyes are so swollen."

My throat felt dry. Her tone, like her appearance, was innocent as a lamb.

I noticed Jorge's impatient gaze and realized I'd been silent too long. I murmured, "Yeah, a mosquito bit my eyelid."

Arya, worried about me, insisted on dragging me to the school clinic.

I quickly stopped her, "It's fine, not a big deal."

Arya had always been kind to me, taking me everywhere with her, sharing secrets like a true best friend. Even when she started dating, she liked to pull me along, her cute and charming demeanor making it impossible to refuse.

I hadn't always been so passive, but eventually, I thought maybe seeing more of their love would numb my heart.

So, throughout their high school romance, I felt like a perpetual third wheel.

Until something unexpected happened.

2.

A dramatic turn of events occurred: Jorge was revealed to be the illegitimate son of the Carters.

Putting aside the intricate details, Jorge was the offspring of Mr. Carter and his mistress. After a challenging childbirth, Mrs. Carter was rendered incapable of having additional children. Moreover, their biological son had gone astray as a result of a maid's carelessness. Consequently, they retained Jorge in their midst, all the while seething with resentment. Recently, their real son was found. Without hesitation, Mrs. Carter kicked Jorge out.

Life transformed into a highly - charged, melodramatic soap opera, where the once - golden boy plummeted from his pedestal practically overnight. Arya, deeply mortified by his changed status, complied with her parents' wishes and set off abroad to pursue her studies.

From the beginning to the end, I, Diana Warren was the one who stayed by Jorge's side.

I helped him step out of the shadows, from having nothing to achieving significant success. Over the years, he never explicitly confessed to me, but perhaps our companionship became a habit. I naturally moved into his apartment.

Even without words, I assumed he acknowledged our relationship as boyfriend and girlfriend. I even fantasized about us walking down the aisle one day.

However, reality hit me hard.

A message from an unknown number read, "Di, I'm coming back!"

Though it was just a short sentence without identifying the sender, the familiar nickname could only belong to one person-Arya. At that moment, it felt like cold water was poured over me, chilling me to the bone, both body and heart.

I didn't know how to respond. After years without contact, our relationship was no longer as close as it once was, and besides... I was still with Jorge. I typed and deleted my response repeatedly, hesitating for a long time before ultimately not replying.

From that day forward, life carried on as if nothing had happened. However, I was well - aware that the undercurrents beneath the seemingly placid surface hadn't vanished; rather, they were merely forcefully subdued.

Her reappearance cast a shadow of paranoia and insecurity over me.

For instance, at this very moment, I dialed Jorge's number, only to be met with a cold, mechanical voice. Unwilling to give up, I called again, and this time it connected.

Before I could speak, he said, "I'm busy, eat by yourself."

Such a brief sentence, yet I could hear a soft female voice in the background with him.

With the passage of time, there was a sense of unfamiliarity, yet a deep-seated familiarity from memory.

It was Arya.

I didn't realize when my fist had clenched so tightly, my heart filled with unresolved resentment. Why did she always linger like a shadow?

Why did she appear in the happiness I'd painstakingly built?

And why, of all days, today-our anniversary, just hours after receiving that text message. "Finally back on home soil, what a relief!"

Jorge wasn't coming home for dinner.

All of this was undoubtedly the catalyst, making me feel both pathetic and ironic.

I walked into the dressing room, casually threw on a coat, grabbed my car keys, and headed out the door.

While waiting at the traffic light, I had the mind to mock myself. I really looked like a wife catching her husband in the act. Whether Jorge was cheating or not, at that moment, I truly felt like a the avatar of anger.

After a thirty-minute drive, I arrived at his office building. The receptionist recognized me and didn't stop me, allowing me to take the elevator up without issue.

As the elevator ascended, I thought about how tired I was of living in constant anxiety for over a month. This cautious life was unbearable. Whether I faced the truth or not, I was exhausted.

Though I was expecting something out of line, I still knocked politely on the door.

"Come in."

A deep male voice sounded. I pushed the door open, scanning the room before looking at him.

He was alone in the office, his brows showing signs of fatigue, with papers scattered across the desk. I let out a small sigh of relief.

"What brings you here?" Though it was a question, Jorge's face didn't show surprise.

I waved the lunchbox in my hand. "What do you think?" Fortunately, I had prepared for this.

He put down the pen in his hand and gestured for me to come over. I strode over briskly, set the lunchbox down on the desk, and deftly opened it. "No matter how swamped you are, you've got to eat. I prepared your favorite steak, cooked medium-rare, just the way you like it, right? I... "

I rambled on for a while, and Jorge didn't continue working. He just watched me arrange things, occasionally joking me as his "little caretaker."

For years, I'd been managing his daily life, truly a caretaker, though perhaps not for much longer. Even though I hadn't found anything yet, I always felt they might rekindle their old flame, making me feel like an intruder.

I changed my tone, casually asking, "What were you doing earlier? When I called you."

Jorge took the fork I handed him, pulled me to his side, and intertwined our fingers.

"I was at an emergency meeting."

The tension in my heart eased a bit. The cold words over the phone now had an explanation. "Alright."

Maybe my response was a bit perfunctory, as he belatedly asked, "Are you upset because I didn't come home to be with you?"

I raised an eyebrow at him. "Hmm."

Jorge's lips curved into a small smile, his features were striking, with a strong nose and a captivating smile. He wore a suit, exuding a charm that straddled the line between youthful and mature- a look I was utterly captivated by.

He wiped his mouth with a tissue and then made a phone call, saying only a few words.

"Come over now. Yes."

After he hung up, I asked curiously, "What are you up to, acting all mysterious?" He didn't answer, just looked into my eyes, smiled, and kissed the back of my hand.

Before I could overthink, there was a knock on the door. Jorge gestured for me to check it out.

I was completely at a loss as to what he was up to, so, in a state of bewilderment, I opened the door. What met my eyes was an enormous bouquet of roses, so large that it could conceal half of a person. The bouquet was adorned with twinkling fairy lights and wrapped in brightly-colored, exquisitely arranged paper.

It was truly beautiful.

Holding the roses, I turned around in a daze. Jorge stood behind me, his voice low and magnetic, "Happy fourth anniversary, darling."

I thought he had forgotten, but who knew...

"There was an emergency today, so I had to hold a meeting. Otherwise, I... thought I'd have to come home later to surprise you, but it turns out you surprised me instead."

I felt touched yet awkward. I hadn't shown up to surprise him but to catch him cheating. Filled with guilt, I threw myself into his arms, but before I could fully enjoy the moment, my smile faded.

I thought, maybe fate couldn't stand my smugness.

On Jorge's clothes, I noticed a strange perfume scent.