His Secret Love

Her silhouette faded into the night, as she went further away from me. Leaving me in the solitude of my thoughts I️ was once again single. A quiet yearning permeated the air. Somewhere deep within, I wished for her to cast a final glance in my direction. With a sober realization, I️ accepted that she wouldn't. Regret gnawed at me. The pain I had inflicted upon her justified her distance, her modesty, her departure. 

If only she would look back, perhaps granting me a smile reminiscent of our better days. Those moments when I wasn't the insufferable jerk. Those moments when I shielded her from my mother's icy piercing glares and hurtful words. The image of being her protector, standing against the harshness of my family and this unforgiving society struck a chord within me. A sentiment I had come to cherish.

Her unwavering resolve manifested in every step she took towards the waiting car. There had been a silent strength engraved in the determined lines of her face and the relentless drive in her eyes during our conversation earlier.

In the overwhelming and calm silence of my family's scorn, who could willingly bear the ceaseless verbal taunts and ridicule? My mother's subtle glances laden with judgment, as well as the cutting remarks were evident through every interaction. The weight of unwelcome hostility, fueled by imbalance in family life and status, etched itself on her every strained expression and weary sigh. Yet, she faced it all with a stoic grace.

Observing her departure, a sudden self-awareness jolted me. Why entertain the desire for her to smile at me? This wasn't my usual disposition. It was a transaction, plain and simple. She needed financial assistance, and I offered my support. There's no reason for me to yearn for the warmth of her smile.

"Why do you look so sad?" My mother's voice sliced through the cocoon of my thoughts, yanking me back to the harsh reality.

I chose to mute her intrusion. The burden of my fake marriage lingered along with evidence of my mother's role in its unraveling. Perhaps, under different circumstances, Saya might have grown to care for me if she hadn't felt like an outsider in her own home. The idea of class and status seemed to fade into irrelevance in my family. The truth; those with arrogance and wealth clung tightly to these distinctions. If you are poor, then you are not good enough for my son.

Despite residing in the same social levels as the elite, it was my mother who embodied the problem. She reveled in flaunting her extravagant lifestyle. A habit destined to lead my father into another financial abyss. Her luxurious values reflected the sentiment, "I must live a life filled with luxury, or else I won't be happy."

As her beloved son, my purpose in this ordeal was clear. To rescue our company from the brink of a second bankruptcy orchestrated by her lavish whims.

To calm her concerns, she devised her own solution. Yes, marrying Mari was her solution to our financial dilemma. A well thought of scheme to safeguard what remained of our enterprise. 

However, I harbored no intention of surrendering my life to the confines of her vision. They seemed blurred when it related to her decisions for me. The wealthy picture she envisioned for me stood in stark contrast to the life I desired for myself.

Lost in my thoughts of Saya, I couldn't escape the nagging question. Was I genuinely saddened by her departure, or did a subtle sense of relief linger in knowing she was finally free? My emotions played a discordant tune, leaving me in a state of conflict. Regardless, acknowledging that I, in fact, inflicted the most pain and hurt upon her. Still, I️ wanted to run after her and plead with her to stay with me.

From the very beginning, I anticipated the challenges of introducing someone like her into the mansion. A challenge I willingly embraced, solely because it was fueled by a bruised ego. My initial intent was merely to witness a crack in her confidence. Yet, as time passed, I️ grappled with the realization that I had pushed the boundaries too far. What started as a quest for revenge, transformed into a deeper understanding of her character. An understanding that she was not the ruthless woman I had initially thought her to be.

Expressing my frustration through a resounding sigh, I clenched my fist. Choosing to ignore my unbothered mother's presence on the balcony, I️ continued to stare at Saya's back. Being her bold self, my daring mother did not fret and continued speaking.

"Why did you marry someone like her without informing us? You're well aware of our expectations, and yet you impulsively took such a reckless step. I'm relieved she chose to leave. It's for the best, for both her and you. You deserve someone better, not a woman like her. She may seem intelligent, but she used her wits to entangle you, creating this mess. But fear not, my dear son, your devoted mother will fix everything."

"You can't ignore the fact that you played a part in this, can you? I was the one who approached her. You don't have the right to make such claims." I confronted the woman who persistently sought to control my romantic choices, my face etched with anger.

"Darling son, don't hold me responsible for revealing the truth to you." With a reassuring pat on my back, she retreated indoors.

I stood alone on the balcony, silently observing the car as it gradually faded into the distance. A subtle ache of loneliness crept over me, accompanied by an uncertainty about our paths crossing again. Would her pure heart and untouched virtue ever be within my reach once more? Regret lingered as a trace of remorse for letting her slip away stifled me. Nonetheless, I, Trevor Burton, held steadfast to my principles. Love to be loved.

Watching the retreat of the car, my thoughts wandered into uncharted territory. What sensations would her body bring if held in my arms? How would her soft bronze skin feel beneath my touch? The allure of her kissable lips, with just the right plumpness, had been noticed but never experienced. Her sweet scent, still lingering in my sheets, whispered of moments untouched. In the quietness of the room night after night, her presence beside me held a subtle tension, an unspoken connection dwelled in the air. Despite the closeness of our bodies, I️ was a complete gentleman. A silent dance of restraint playing out in the pauses between our breaths. The opportunity for more was noticeable. Yet, my artfully handled emotionless actions did not betray the unspoken desires that echoed through the unclaimed spaces between us.

 As I watched her departure, there was this mysterious void within me. Was it possible that I had unwittingly fallen for her? Admitting a shift in my heart, I found myself wanting to care for her more than I had initially intended. Contemplating whether it was acceptable to silently watch over her from the shadows, I acknowledged a debt owed to her for being my fake bride. Perhaps this could be my secret responsibility, kept under wraps until the day she discovers the truth. 

Reality tugged at me. Why worry Trevor? Ours wasn't entirely a legitimate marriage. The fabricated certificate presented to my family was the key to escaping the unwanted union with Mari. Relief should have washed over me knowing that Saya was far and safe from my family's incessant convictions. But, an unexpected emptiness settled as I watched her vanish into the starry night.

Deep inside, was a nagging sense of wrongdoing. A flush crept up my cheeks, and a sheepish smile played on my lips. A tangible manifestation of the silliness I couldn't shake off consumed me. A recollection of my egotistical actions, seeking revenge for a past humiliation at the university. Reflecting on it now, that arrogance appeared terribly childish. Patting the small book concealed in my pocket, I released a sigh and ventured towards the night sky.

Live well Saya Talou. Perhaps our paths will cross again someday. Even if it's merely as friends.