Leshay stared at the chat window, the glowing cursor blinking mockingly. After yet another massive mistake, she found herself spiraling with regret. The 'send' button seemed to pulsate with the weight of her impulsive actions. She realized, too late, that she could've just kept quiet. She could've laughed it off, played along, or even just said nothing. But no? she had to panic. She had to say that. She had to make things awkward between them...again.
As the weight of her own words sank in, a wave of shame washed over her, threatening to drown her in self-reproach. She broke. She apologized. Over and over again. Her fingers shook as she typed, the screen blurry from tears she couldn't stop. Because in that moment, the fear wasn't just about a lie, about perpetuating the accidental fiction of a "boyfriend", it was about him. Gareth!
He was sunshine in her otherwise grey existence, a constant source of laughter and understanding. She was terrified she'd just blown her one real chance to be with this amazing guy. The guy who had shown her patience, joy, and something real she hadn't experienced before. The thought of losing him was unbearable. And Gareth?
He was quiet at first. But not the usual comfortable quiet they shared. It was that disappointed, gut-punching kind of quiet. The kind that says more than any words could. It resonated in the digital void, deafening her with its unspoken accusations. He trusted her. He genuinely thought she was single, available to reciprocate the feelings he'd so subtly hinted at. And now? she'd shattered that trust, like dropping a priceless vase on a stone floor.
Was it really that hard to just be honest with him from the beginning?
Now, she didn't know how to make it up to him. She didn't know if she could. The future she'd started to paint in her mind, a future filled with Gareth's easy smile and warm laughter, was fading, blurring like a watercolor left in the rain. And to make it worse, Gareth kept bringing it up. "Your boyfriend?" Each time he said it, it hurt. Like a reminder of the mistake she couldn't take back, a constant needle prick reminding her of her foolishness.
Driven by desperation and a sliver of hope, she found the courage to confess. She told him the truth: she really liked him. That it had always been him, ever since they started chatting to each other, ever since he started to flirt with her and he'd charmed her with his goofy jokes and genuine kindness.
And he? laughed...
She asked him why he was laughing. And again, the same wall came up, solid and unyielding: "Because? your boyfriend."
Eventually, after what felt like an eternity, he said he appreciated her friendship. The word hung in the air, a hollow consolation prize she didn't want. And Leshay, heart heavy, pride cracked, just typed: "Ohk." That single, simple word said everything she couldn't. It was a resignation, a plea, a world of unspoken emotions crammed into three letters.
And just like that, everything became so awkward between them... The awkwardness between them felt vast and empty, a reflection of the chasm that had suddenly opened in their connection. But deep down, under all the awkwardness, heartbreak, and confusion? a small spark still flickered. A what if. A maybe, still. Because their story didn't feel finished...not yet.
Despite the mess she'd made, the hurt she'd caused, a part of her refused to give up hope entirely. And maybe, just maybe? this wasn't the end...
As the weight of her own words sank in, a wave of shame washed over her, threatening to drown her in self-reproach. She broke. She apologized. Over and over again. Her fingers shook as she typed, the screen blurry from tears she couldn't stop. Because in that moment, the fear wasn't just about a lie, about perpetuating the accidental fiction of a "boyfriend", it was about him. Gareth!
He was sunshine in her otherwise grey existence, a constant source of laughter and understanding. She was terrified she'd just blown her one real chance to be with this amazing guy. The guy who had shown her patience, joy, and something real she hadn't experienced before. The thought of losing him was unbearable. And Gareth?
He was quiet at first. But not the usual comfortable quiet they shared. It was that disappointed, gut-punching kind of quiet. The kind that says more than any words could. It resonated in the digital void, deafening her with its unspoken accusations. He trusted her. He genuinely thought she was single, available to reciprocate the feelings he'd so subtly hinted at. And now? she'd shattered that trust, like dropping a priceless vase on a stone floor.
Was it really that hard to just be honest with him from the beginning?
Now, she didn't know how to make it up to him. She didn't know if she could. The future she'd started to paint in her mind, a future filled with Gareth's easy smile and warm laughter, was fading, blurring like a watercolor left in the rain. And to make it worse, Gareth kept bringing it up. "Your boyfriend?" Each time he said it, it hurt. Like a reminder of the mistake she couldn't take back, a constant needle prick reminding her of her foolishness.
Driven by desperation and a sliver of hope, she found the courage to confess. She told him the truth: she really liked him. That it had always been him, ever since they started chatting to each other, ever since he started to flirt with her and he'd charmed her with his goofy jokes and genuine kindness.
And he? laughed...
She asked him why he was laughing. And again, the same wall came up, solid and unyielding: "Because? your boyfriend."
Eventually, after what felt like an eternity, he said he appreciated her friendship. The word hung in the air, a hollow consolation prize she didn't want. And Leshay, heart heavy, pride cracked, just typed: "Ohk." That single, simple word said everything she couldn't. It was a resignation, a plea, a world of unspoken emotions crammed into three letters.
And just like that, everything became so awkward between them... The awkwardness between them felt vast and empty, a reflection of the chasm that had suddenly opened in their connection. But deep down, under all the awkwardness, heartbreak, and confusion? a small spark still flickered. A what if. A maybe, still. Because their story didn't feel finished...not yet.
Despite the mess she'd made, the hurt she'd caused, a part of her refused to give up hope entirely. And maybe, just maybe? this wasn't the end...