"𝑚𝑦 𝑙𝑜𝑣𝑒 𝑤𝑎𝑠 𝑐𝑟𝑢𝑒𝑙"

When I was drowning in the unheated pool, I couldn't help but catastrophize all the things that were undecided, things that I'm most afraid of and suddenly i stop breathing, my throat started to choke, water filled in my nostrils to my head, the water took all of my control, hands, legs and mind even though I'm great at swimming, when i looked at him it feels like it bittersweet nostalgias  like drowing in the deep sea

i don't know how I am alive right now.

Who saved me?

My dirty blondes were slightly flowing across my face when my eyes meet daniel's  He was in the car, sitting with his hand leaning on the car's window

he turned his eyes down, breaking the unknown contact

I go along the other side where Noah just saw me, the blue orchids in my basket were still freshly packed in butter paper.

"You came here for sodas after three days??" i asked by pinching his hoodie, making my eyebrows scrunched, he's narrow blue eyes shining in the dazzling sunset lights looks down at me, i always scolds him even though he's the eldest one and he allows that, he likes that.

"We've been here for 3 hours" he said by slamming the car's door.

"you'll know when you'll stop being a spod all the time" he continued, a little smirk always on his face when he makes fun of me. But he looks stupid all the time.

And Daniel didn't even look at me,  probably forgot me, his eyes were gazing at the road on the other side.

Noah knocked on the car roof, the knock stirred Daniel a bit as if he was reverie something and Noah broke it.

"I'll be there in an hour, you guys go" he told his friends on the backseat and Daniel who was driving the car.

His always-busy-on-the-phone friends said "okay" and Daniel nodded. He then furiously slid the gears, hit the gas and sped away, making my peplum top fly in the air

"Does he know how to drive" i pointed my index finger on the car's way, foreboding his driving skills.

"Don't worry he's a champ at driving" he replied after taking the flowers from my bicycle basket, swiftly removing the butter paper from the flower

"What have you done??" I screeched as he  separate every orchids and hydragenia from the buqoute

"What"

"It's a birthday buqoute for Daniel" i said by snatching the buqoute from his hand

He raised an eyebrow and started fake admiring it, I rolled my eyes at him.

We entered my house, my house is one of the beautiful things I belong to, it's an cape cod house surrounded by trees and flowers and a gazebo in the backyard, the gazebo is the only thing that connects our house to Thompson's  house.

Their house is pretty. Frankly, it is more prettier, it's a shingle style house with lavish garden and a beautiful lake, the fact they made it and my house is our grandparents house they used to live here and we used to spend summer time here.

Years ago there were no houses in this area. I always spent the best days of my years, like making the best sofa fort in the world with noah, baking cookies with grandma and mom, going early morning walks with dad and grandpa. life is always beautiful when we are young. 

"Here she is" Ana's face gets brightened as she saw me

I carried the now half-ruined bouquet inside, grumbling to myself while Mom looked up from the kitchen like she'd been waiting for drama.

“Let me guess,” Mom said, hands on her hips. “Your brother?”

“And his favorite new hobby—destroying beautiful things,” I muttered, dropping the bouquet gently on the table.

“Hey!” Noah’s voice called from the living room. “I improved it!”

I rolled my eyes so hard they almost stuck. “He pulled apart the whole arrangement, Mom. The orchids are individual now. Like some sad dating metaphors.”

“Well, at least you made it back before the frosting melted,” my mom said going back to baking

Ana hugged me firmly and pulling back to look at me

"God you're so pretty" she said rolling her eyes getting away from me.

"Oh please i stink" I said showing my top that has been sweaty for an hour.

"But it has nothing to do with the face" she said by stepping into the kitchen where my mom was baking something.

I smiled and give up the complemented-arguing.

"What are you guys doing?"

"We're making birthday cake" they said together and laughed looking at each other

"No way I'm joining you guys like this, just hold a sec I'll be back after a quick shower" I said already hurrying toward my room without waiting for a reply.

After a lightning-fast shower, I walked back in wearing a white tank top that said Pretty Little Baby—fitting, considering how I was feeling.

“Told you I’d be quick,” I said, tossing my damp hair over my shoulder.

The TV was still playing some old sitcom in the background, but no one was really paying attention.

“Come here, miss pretty baby,” Mom called from the kitchen, rolling up her sleeves. “If you’re done being fabulous, we need extra hands with the frosting.”

I grinned and padded over, the scent of vanilla, butter, and just a little chaos filling the air. The kitchen looked like something off a holiday movie set—flour on the counters, mixing bowls stacked, and two moms hustling like we were prepping for a wedding.

“Let me guess—still baking the birthday boy’s favorites?” I asked, grabbing an apron off the hook.

“You know it,” said Ana—Mom’s best friend and Daniel’s mom. Her smile was tired, but warm. “He hasn’t been home in two years. We want everything perfect.”

“That boy better cry when he sees this spread,” I teased, tying my apron and reaching for a piping bag.

Mom rolled her eyes. “Please. He’ll probably just eat everything before we get the candles lit.”

We all laughed, but beneath the flour and frosting, I felt it again—that weird buzz in my chest. Like something was off. Like I was smiling, but also… unraveling.

Last night still clung to me like chlorine in my hair.

The party. The pool.
The shove.
The dark water swallowing me.
The moment my lungs gave up.

And then—
Nothing.

Until I woke up in my room. Drenched. Freezing. And very much alive.

Someone pulled me out of that pool. Someone carried me home.

But who?

“You okay?” Ana asked suddenly, peeking over my shoulder. “You’re putting way too much frosting on that one.”

“Oops,” I said, shaking it off. “Guess I zoned out.”

“Still thinking about how to impress my son?” she teased.

I forced a laugh. “Please. I just want the cookies to shine, not me.”

“Mmm-hmm,” both moms said in unison.

I rolled my eyes. “You two are worse than high schoolers.”

They laughed again, and I let myself smile along with them—but inside, I was still floating somewhere between confusion and cold water.

Because earlier, an hour ago, I saw Daniel.

He passed by in a car with some friends. Windows down. Music loud. Not even a glance in my direction.

Like I wasn’t the girl he was once friends with he used to call me love.
Like I was no one.

I focused on the cookies again, slowly, carefully. Maybe too carefully. Like the more perfect I made them, the less messy my thoughts would feel.

Evening melted into night.

The cake was done. Cookies cooled on wire racks. Balloons tied. Lights glowing.

Everything was ready.

Except him.

We waited.

For minutes.

Then hours.

The dining table stayed untouched, the candles were never lit. The smiles started slipping, replaced by glances at the clock and tighter voices.

Noah paced the porch, the phone clutched in his hand, checking it every ten seconds. His forehead was creased in that way that meant he was trying hard not to show he cared too much.

Ana disappeared into the guest room with Mom.

I passed by once—just for a second—and caught Ana in tears, her head on my mom’s shoulder. Her voice was cracking, “He’s not the same, he’s just not the same…”

And Mom, stroking her back, said softly, “I know. I saw it too.”

It broke something in me. Seeing the strongest women I knew turn into shadows because a boy they loved turned into someone else.

Noah gave up around 11:45. He shoved his phone into his hoodie pocket and muttered something about going to bed, but I knew he wouldn't sleep.

The house went quiet. Just the hum of the fridge, the ticking of the wall clock, and the flicker of the garden lights outside.

By midnight, I was the only one awake.

The house was asleep.

But I wasn’t.

I’d tossed and turned until the ceiling blurred, the ache in my chest like a wound that wouldn't stop pulsing. Eventually, I gave in.

I slipped on my hoodie, grabbed my new book—“After All This Time”—from the nightstand, and padded downstairs in the dark.

The kitchen was quiet, lit only by the blue glow of the stove clock. I liked it that way.

I filled a glass with cold water, pulled a snack bag from the pantry, and curled up on the bench like I was hiding from the world.

First line of the book:
“Some people leave you without warning. Others disappear one slow silence at a time.”

I didn’t even realize I was crying until I wiped my cheek with the back of my sleeve.

Then—
Headlights.

I glanced out the kitchen window, blinking.

A car pulled into the driveway. Sleek. Familiar.

My breath caught.

Daniel.

He got out slowly, like he hadn’t vanished for hours. Like he hadn’t missed his birthday cake, the handmade decorations, or his mom nearly crying in my mom’s arms because he hadn’t shown.

He didn’t know.
But I did.
And that was enough to make my chest burn.

He stepped into the house and froze in the doorway of the kitchen when he saw me sitting there.

His eyes flicked over me—book in lap, water half-full—and then he looked away, like even acknowledging me took too much effort.

“Nice of you to show up,” I said, my voice low and dry.

He ran a hand through his hair, a tired sigh slipping out. “Didn’t know anyone would be awake.”

I closed my book gently, stood, and leaned against the counter.

“We all waited,” I said. My eyes met his. “For hours.”

His brow creased. “Waited?”

“It was supposed to be a surprise,” I said, quieter now. “The cake. The cookies. Everything. Your mom, my mom, Noah—everyone was so excited.”

He blinked, like he couldn’t process the information. “I… didn’t know.”

“Yeah,” I said, nodding. “That’s the part that sucks the most.”

He stood there, stunned—but not apologetic. Not really.

And suddenly I was exhausted. Not just sleepy, but done.

I walked past him to the sink, rinsed my glass, and turned back to him.

“In case no one says it again this year…” I paused, just long enough for it to sting.

“Happy birthday,” I said, with a soft shrug. Calm. Unbothered. Lying.

I left him standing in the kitchen alone—no cake, no candles, no family singing out of tune.

Just him.
And the silence.
After all this time.

---

Author's note

Again long ass chapter but thanks for sticking up, and i would love it if you guys show some love and shower some comments and votes >3

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                                                   -rolly