Kris

She loved him. Quietly. Long. As only those who hide their feelings in their eyes, not in words, can do. Chris never knew. Or pretended not to know. But one day she saw him. On the other.

Evening. Park. She stands in the crowd, at the other end. And sees them.

He laughs. The way she dreamed of seeing him next to her. The other holds his hand. He leans over, whispers something in her ear – and she smiles. He smiles too.

She freezes. Her heart first squeezes, then falls - somewhere in her stomach, in the ground, in nowhere. She didn't expect it. She didn't think it would hurt so much.

Her feet felt like they were rooted to the pavement. Her ears were ringing. The world around her became muffled, as if someone had closed a door, leaving her on the other side of the glass.

“He’s so… happy,” she whispers to herself. “With her.”

Something aches in my chest. Achingly, quietly, without hysteria - but that makes it worse.

Her fingers in her pocket clutch the phone. She wanted to call her friend, her mother, anyone. But… why? What would she say? That her heart was broken? That she lost a game that no one but her had ever played?

And then he notices her.

In passing. Quickly. As if by accident. But their gaze meets.

She manages to straighten up, pull that same half-laughing mask onto her face. Like everything is fine. Like she's just walking. Just here.

He waves his hand slightly at her, still smiling reservedly - a stranger, no longer hers.

She nods back. Once. Just a little. And turns around.

Step. Second. Third. Faster. Don't turn around. Never.

“Everything’s fine,” she thinks. “He’s happy. Just not with me.”

And let no one see how she broke at that second. The main thing is that he didn’t see it.

And that means everything is really good. Only the heart betrayingly aches with pain…