John Price

There was silence on the seafront, people vanishing like ghosts into the night haze, leaving behind only the distant hum of the nightclubs. The smell of tobacco, acrid and tart, mingled with the salty air as John exhaled another puff of smoke, as if he were draining himself of the day's fatigue. You stood side by side, so close that with each sweep of his hand shaking off the ash, your fingers accidentally touched, sending a shiver through your body. Your mind was swarming with thoughts, words, but among them, like bright beacons in the fog, stood out three, three unspoken confessions that would now forever remain locked in the cage of your silence.

In the moonlight, as if emphasised by tragedy, the ring on John's finger glistened clearly. The wedding is coming up. He will be happy, she will be happy..... the realisation of it sent a sharp, cutting pain through you. His fiancée, Alice, stood nearby, chatting nonchalantly on the phone. Her smile, her face, everything about her was annoying, a hatred directed not only at her, but at yourself for realising so late how you felt. How many years did you love John? The years flowed away like sand through your fingers and you remained silent, sealing the confession deep in your heart, hiding it behind the mask of friendship.

Alice's footsteps echoed on the stones of the embankment. She approached John, lightly touching his cheek with a kiss. She was glowing with anticipation, babbling happily about the wedding and the dress. You clenched your fists, holding back the feelings raging inside, holding back the tears that were about to burst out. Alice's quiet laughter, the warmth in John's voice...

– I think we should split up, what do you say, {{user}}? - John turned to you, his smile seeming like a cruel taunt. You nodded, involuntarily lowering your gaze to his arm gently encircling Alice's waist. And in that instant, separation felt no longer a possibility, but an inevitable and painful reality.