75. Hope

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Ariel

"I love you, Alice."

He said that once, exactly once, but the statement pierced through my heart and shattered the entire being of my existence. He didn't need to repeat it for me to know who he saw in me, what was going on in his head.

I knew it. I accepted it. I told him I wanted him in whatever form I could get him, then why does... why does it hurt so much more...

A thin veil of water covered my eyes, making my vision fade. I knew not what I was doing. I forgot where I was or who was around me. All I could think about was how he touched me that first night—touched her. Not me. Even if the person with him was me, in his mind, it wasn't. It was a twisted way of being cheated on.

It hurt much more than the tiny wound on my finger that had started bleeding. I didn't feel the pain until my mother came running to me and called out my name.

"Ariel!"

I hadn't heard that name in a while.  For the last few days that I spent holed up inside the house, it was just Kaidon and me. Just like it was before between us, he didn't see me during the day; he didn't speak to me. We would see each other only when the sun set, and then he would treat me like how he would have treated her. Every time he mumbled her name, it hammered on my heart like a nail.

For a moment, I had forgotten Ariel even existed.

"Ariel, baby, are you okay?" I heard my mother's panicked voice again, finally waking me up from my trance. I had a knife in my hand. I was chopping the veggies and accidentally hurt my finger in the process. I stared at her with my eyes wide open and then blinked, letting the tears seep down my eyes. My senses returned to me, which was when I realised I was at my mother's cooking classes. It was a hobby of hers, and to pursue the same, she opened a small cooking school in the middle of the city.

My lips parted, my body trembling from all the pain I wanted to share with her. It was too much for me to keep inside.

Her gentle fingers cupped my cheeks and dabbed the tears away. Her eyes reflected my pain, as if, without having experienced the same, she could still feel it. This love, this unconditional care, I never realised how much I missed it. I always took it for granted. I craved it so much now.

"It hurts that much?" she asked, and I whimpered, unable to keep my tears at bay. She had no clue how badly it hurt, how it pained me and shattered my heart into a million pieces. I hadn't come there with the intention of telling her about my life. I just missed her and wanted her to know that I was okay. But it was a lie. I was suffering, and I wanted her to listen. I wanted someone to hear and comfort me and tell me everything would be alright. My hope was crushed, and I desperately needed someone to piece it back together.

She pulled my head down to her shoulder as her arms embraced me tightly. I clung to her frail body, using her as my support because I was breaking apart. I let my tears wet her clothes. The snot blocked my nose, making it difficult for me to breathe. Her fingers gently stroked my back, and I heard her ask her assistant to take over the class for a while.

She walked me to her tiny office outside and let me lie down on the couch. Pulling a chair to my side, she took a seat and softly caressed my hair. She didn't say a word. She didn't ask me what was wrong. She just silently sat together with me, patiently waiting for me to cry my heart out.

I hadn't shed a single tear since that night. I accepted what he gave to me because I was the one who asked. I couldn't complain. I didn't want him to see me weak. I wanted to show him that I was stronger than her. That I wouldn't disappear on him. That I could take whatever he'd throw at me until he was ready to accept me for the real me. But it seemed like a long shot now.

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