Love Blooms After the Fireworks

As Rex’s question hung in the air, a profound image surfaced in my mind—a face that bore a striking resemblance to Xavier’s but belonged to a little boy. This child’s face, though similar, was marked by an innocence and vulnerability that was distinctly different from Xavier's. It was an evocative reminder of the past and present intertwining in my life.

My parents had passed away when I was still very young, leaving a void that seemed insurmountable. Growing up without their guiding presence, I had found solace in Xavier, who entered my life during junior high. For many years, he had been my anchor, my confidant and my closest companion, filling the gap left by my parents. He was, without a doubt, the most significant person in the first half of my life.

But now, as I faced the reality of my dwindling time, the boy’s face reminded me of someone even more precious—someone who had become the center of my world. This child, who was the embodiment of my love and hope, was my greatest treasure. Despite the devastating news from the doctor, who had given me only three months left to live, my love for this child was boundless and unwavering.

Looking into Xavier’s hopeful eyes, I saw not just the man who had been my rock but also the man who had to share the remaining moments of my life with this boy. I knew the significance of my answer extended beyond the mere words. With a deep breath, I nodded and replied, “Of course.”

The crowd’s response was immediate and vibrant; cheers and laughter erupted around us, filling the room with a celebratory energy. Xavier let out a sigh of relief, his shoulders relaxing as his smile broadened, conveying both gratitude and comfort.

In the final round, the bottle pointed to Becca. Before the question could even be asked, Becca swiftly declared, “I’ll go with Dare.”

The dare was to hug someone of the opposite sex sitting next to you. As soon as the dare was announced, Xavier’s expression darkened.

“That’s not appropriate; let’s change it,” he said, his voice tinged with frustration.

“What’s inappropriate about it?” Becca shot a quick glance at Xavier before promptly hugging a male classmate seated beside her.

Amid the cheers, Xavier’s face turned completely black.

After the gathering ended and we returned home, Xavier sat in the living room, staring blankly at his phone.

Curious, I picked up his phone and went to Becca’s X. As expected, she had just posted a minute ago, accompanied by a photo of herself hugging her knees and crying.

[Left out again. Waiting all day for my birthday isn’t worth comparing to the alumni party with his first love.]

The post was filled with grievance, brokenness, but also immense resentment. Watching Xavier stare at his phone for a long time, I felt as if my heart had been punctured by a huge hole. Throughout the time, calls kept coming in, but Xavier ignored them all.

Xavier was distracted all night and as it neared midnight, he couldn't stay put any longer. Finally, he broke the silence.

“Something’s come up at the company. It’s urgent and they need me. Go to sleep. Don’t wait up for me.”

 I gazed at Xavier, the man I had loved for ten years. Even now, my feelings had not wavered. Love, I realized, is like a heartbeat—constant and enduring until it stops.

“Xavier, did you forget what day today is?” I asked softly.

The calendar in the living room clearly displayed the date: May 20th. Ten years ago today, Xavier had confessed his love to me and we had officially become a couple. Every year since then had been our anniversary—except for the three years I had been away.

Xavier’s face fell as he remembered. A look of guilt flashed across his eyes as he reached out to touch my face. “Silvia, I—”

Just then, the phone rang again, snapping Xavier back to reality. “I’ve got to go,” he said abruptly. Without another word, he left.