I sat there, staring out of the window, the fading sun casting a bittersweet glow in the room. The memories of that fateful night with Denver still lingered, haunting my thoughts. There was no proper goodbye, just a slow, lingering kiss that spoke volumes, as if it held the weight of a farewell. And now, here I was, back in my hometown, feeling utterly lost and incomplete.
The pieces of my heart lay shattered and broken, scattered across the vast expanse of my emotions. It was as if a vital part of me had been torn away, leaving behind an empty void. I no longer belonged to this place that once held so much comfort and familiarity. I yearned for the warmth of his touch, the way he held me close, and the whispered promises of a future we dreamed of together.
But now, everything seemed unreal. The days stretched out before me, filled with a lingering ache and an overwhelming sense of incompleteness. The simple act of breathing felt like a struggle, as if my lungs were weighed down by the heaviness of my broken heart.
Regret clawed at my chest as I replayed memories like a worn-out film, desperately searching for clues I may have missed. Was it my failure to express my feelings? Or maybe I didn't offer the support he needed in his darkest hours?
Tears welled up, blurring my vision as I whispered into the silence, hoping my words would reach his ears, or perhaps the heavens above. If only time could rewind, if only I could go back and make things right. But time, relentless and cruel, denied me that chance.
Questions swirled within me, each one a knife twisting deeper into my wounded soul. What went wrong? Was it something I did or said? Could I have done more to make things right? I blamed myself, dissecting every moment, searching for answers that seemed to slip through my grasp like sand.
"Hey, did you finish that report?" 
Milly caught me sketching again in the peaceful playground near our school. The children's laughter filled the air, adding a sense of serenity to the moment.
I looked up, a bit startled by her presence. "Yeah," I replied, my voice tinged with shyness, and offered her a timid smile.
She leaned closer, a mischievous glint in her eyes. "Come on, show me another one of your sketches," she pleaded in her puppy-dog eyes. I couldn't help but chuckle at her persistence as I shrugged my shoulders. It had become a norm whenever she caught me with my sketchbook – she always wanted me to draw her, and I happily obliged.
Life moved forward without Denver. There were no messages or any form of communication between us. I returned to school, immersing myself in the program I had chosen. It became a welcomed distraction, a beautiful diversion that helped me gradually forget the intense attachment I once had to Denver.
As I delved into my studies, the days blended together, filled with lectures, assignments, and the company of friends. The more I focused on my chosen path, the more the memories of Denver began to fade into the background. The moments we shared were still etched in my heart, but their power over me temporarily diminished.
Life moved on, and I moved with it. Though memories of Denver occasionally whispered in the recesses of my mind. The attachment I once felt had transformed into a lesson, reminding me of the importance of self-discovery and growth.
And as I continued to sketch, capturing the essence of the world through my art, I realized that the most beautiful distractions in life were often the ones that helped us find ourselves amidst the chaos, allowing us to create our own stories and define our own happiness.
“Kiss her!” 
Carmienne's friend nudged me and exclaimed, "Look ahead!" 
My sister's wedding with Jake Hart was unfolding before us, and a smile crept onto my face as I witnessed the sheer happiness radiating from her. Finally, after years of waiting, she had found the love she deserved.
They sealed their vows with a tender kiss, and the crowd erupted in joyous applause. But amidst the celebration, my mind couldn't help but wander to my own marriage, now a bittersweet memory etched within me.
Those once cherished memories, brimming with happiness and love, now felt like sharp fragments of glass, piercing my heart. The echoes of laughter and affection felt distant, overshadowed by the emptiness that engulfed me.
Where did it all go wrong? That question still echoed in my mind, haunting me with its unanswered torment. I couldn't help but blame myself, wondering what part I played in this heartbreaking unraveling. Did I make a mistake? These thoughts consumed me, suffocating me with regret. 
I retraced our steps, reliving those moments that now seemed like a dream. The late-night conversations that danced until dawn, the stolen glances that spoke volumes. The promises and confession. How did we drift so far apart from that love we once held so tightly?
As the day relinquished its hold to the night, I clung desperately to the fading memories, desperately trying to preserve what was slipping through my fingers. The ache in my heart was unbearable, weighing me down as the crowd's cheers faded into the background. Amidst the cheers, my mind always circled back to that heart-wrenching night of farewell and goodbye.
I was lost, utterly unsure of how to survive this silent heartache. It was unlike anything I had experienced before, leaving me shattered and broken. The intensity of the emotions threatened to engulf me, making it feel impossible to endure any longer. Restlessness consumed me, as I still questioned myself relentlessly, replaying every moment in my mind.
Every memory I had with Denver came rushing back, flooding my senses with both joy and sorrow. Even after a year since his departure, it was still him that held my heart captive. I never doubted the depth of my love for him, never questioned if it was merely infatuation or something more profound.
I knew, without a shadow of a doubt, that I loved him. The mere thought of letting go was unfathomable. They say that love requires letting go, especially if it's for our own good. But I couldn't bear the idea of releasing my grip on the love I held so dear.
The weight of unspoken words and unexpressed feelings bore heavily on me. I never had the chance to clarify everything, to provide the explanations that would bring closure. The struggle to express the depths of my emotions was overwhelming, and it only intensified my sense of regret.
After that heart-wrenching farewell, Denver left the Galvosa mansion without giving me another opportunity to see him. The thought of talking to him and having to say goodbye for the second time was simply too much to bear. 
In the solitude of the night, I grappled with the whirlwind of emotions, longing for a chance to reconcile, to find solace in his presence once again. The uncertainty and longing gnawed at my soul, leaving me yearning for closure and the possibility of healing the shattered pieces of my heart.
I carried on with my life, determined to move forward without him. I immersed myself in the company of my friends, seeking solace in their presence. I embraced new experiences, eager to venture into uncharted territory and discover a side of life I hadn't yet explored.
Clubbing became one of my newfound hobby, a choice I made entirely on my own. No one influenced me as it was a decision fueled by my desire to break free from the confines of my past. In those moments, I formed connections with people I couldn't have imagined before. The departure of Carmienne after her marriage to Jake prompted me to fully embrace these moments of joy and distraction.
Deep down, I remained unchanged. I was still that reclusive girl, wrapped in long sleeves and pants, whose shyness had gradually lessened but had not vanished entirely. Despite my newfound willingness to step out of my comfort zone, I knew that at my core, I was still me.
Kian, though often away from the city due to his business, remained a constant presence in my life. He had his own life to lead, managing his business and pursuing his own goals, but he always found a way to stay connected.
On one occasion, Kian brought Liene to my hometown but something had changed within her since the bombing incident, and I couldn't grasp what is it. She seemed distant and avoided any interaction with Carmienne, as if she erased her in her life in an instant. It left me puzzled and wanted to know what happened after that traumatic event.
It was afternoon, and classes had just ended when a friend of mine approached me. She caught sight of what I was sketching, her brows furrowing with curiosity. Even in its rough draft form, she could discern that it was a depiction of a man.
"Who's that?" she inquired, her gaze fixed on the drawing. "Definitely not Kian, right?"
I glanced down at my sketch, realization dawning upon me. It wasn't Kian in the picture. The features, the outline of the hair, and the proportions all pointed to one person. It was Denver. 
"Oh, um, it's just some inspiration I found somewhere," I stammered, attempting to steady my voice, even though deep down, I knew the subject of the sketch held far more significance than mere inspiration.
"It looks like one of the Velasquez heirs," she remarked casually, causing my heart to skip a beat. I stared at her, desperate for confirmation of what I had just heard.
"V-velasquez?" I repeated, my voice quivering.
"Yeah, specifically the younger Velasquez. You know, Clyde Velasquez?"
As her words sank in, a shiver ran down my spine. Clyde's strained relationship with his older brother flashed through my mind. He had always been headstrong and stubborn, often behaving like a brat, which clashed with Denver's no-nonsense demeanor. Their clashes were intense, and I couldn't help but wonder if they had managed to find common ground and reconcile.
Despite the challenges they faced, a glimmer of hope ignited within me. Perhaps time had softened their differences, or maybe they had found a way to bridge the gap between them.
I was familiar with it, but I hesitated before responding. "I've heard that name before," I replied.
"He actually visited our town for his older brother's birthday on Monday. You should come. It's an open invitation for everyone. They're hosting a big celebration. Though I never saw his older brother visited here."
I simply nodded in response, my mind consumed by the weight of her words. She left shortly after, but her revelation continued to haunt me until the arrival of Monday—Denver's 24th birthday.
I had been eagerly anticipating this day, yearning for the opportunity to speak to him again. I wanted to see him, to exchange a simple greeting. I longed to know if he missed me, because if he asked me, I would wholeheartedly admit that I missed him too.
I had no intention of burdening him or rekindling a complicated relationship. All I sought was closure, a chance to alleviate the heavy burden weighing upon my heart. I wanted to release the lingering emotions and find a sense of peace within myself.
With determination fueling my actions, I poured my heart and soul into creating an oil-paint portrait of Denver. It was a gift I hoped to present to him personally, along with a plea to reconnect and talk once more.
In my painting, I captured a moment that had been etched in my memory—a vision of Denver watching the sunset. I remembered it vividly, as if it had just happened yesterday. The radiant hues of orange sunlight bathed his side profile, casting a mesmerizing glow upon his gray eyes as the sun descended below the horizon.
Working diligently, I completed the painting in just three days, driven by the urgency ignited by my classmate's revelation. I just need to find a way to reach out to Denver and ask for my parents' permission to do so.
The creak of my bedroom door interrupted my solitary moment, revealing the figure of my father. His eyes landed on me, sprawled on the floor with the portrait displayed before me. Covered in smudges of paint, I must have appeared quite a sight. He let out a weary sigh, instantly understanding what's happening as soon as he saw the portrait.
"You want to go, don't you?" His voice held a mix of resignation and understanding. I hadn't expected him to be aware of my intentions. Ever since that fateful night when they went to Mr. Galvosa's house, we had avoided discussing Denver. I wasn't certain if my father still approved of him, even though deep down, I longed for his support.
"I heard about it from a friend, Dad," I explained, my voice tinged with hesitation. "I just want the chance to talk to him, or perhaps, simply give him this portrait."
My father's gaze softened as he replied, "They've extended an invitation to us once again, just like last year."
"They did?" Surprise flickered across my face, as the possibility of reconnecting with Denver grew within my grasp.
"I didn't bring it up earlier, knowing you were still healing from your marriage. But seeing you now, it seems you've found peace."
A genuine smile illuminated my face, radiating the newfound hope that filled my heart. "I truly am okay now, Dad," I assured him, my voice steady with conviction. "So, could you please allow me to see my husband?" The word "husband" immediately slipped from my lips.
"Sure, get ready then," my father agreed, his arms enveloping me in a warm embrace. He had granted my wish just like he always did whenever I desired something.
With a newfound excitement, I took a bath to remove the paint on me and swiftly slipped into a stunning blue, glittery backless dress, perfectly aligned with the evening's shimmering theme. The mid-length curls of my hair cascaded down my shoulders, adding a touch of elegance to my appearance. I applied a captivating yet understated makeup look, wanting to catch Denver's attention without overpowering my natural beauty. Finally, I slipped on a pair of sleek black two-inch stilettos, completing my look.
As I made my way towards my father, I couldn't help but feel a flutter of nerves in my stomach. The gift I had painstakingly prepared for Denver was already placed inside the car, carefully wrapped in festive gift paper. Memories of our first encounters flooded my mind, intertwining with anticipation for what lay ahead.
It felt like déjà vu as memories flooded back to the time I first laid eyes on him. It was his 22nd birthday, two years ago. We arrived at a modern, bluish-painted three-story house, and as the gates opened, our car gracefully made its way inside. The radiant lights emanating from the house momentarily blinded me, but I couldn't help but be in awe of the grandeur before me. 
As we stepped out of the car, the double doors of the house swung open, revealing a team of attentive servers waiting to welcome us. I found myself mesmerized by the opulent chandelier suspended from the center of the ceiling, its crystals gleaming with an ethereal glow. A grand staircase connected the first and second floors, while tables adorned with delicate decorations stretched parallel to each other. It was the same lavish setup I had witnessed on his birthday two years ago. The sheer grandeur of the occasion left me gasping in awe.
"Look for him," my dad insisted, breaking me from my reverie. "I'll go find my colleagues."
With a nod, he disappeared into the crowd, leaving me to the vibrant sea of partygoers. I glanced around, taking in the sight of people enjoying the party. I was relieved that I hadn't overdressed as my blue dress blended harmoniously with the decorations that adorned the venue.
I immediately caught sight of Denver amidst the bustling crowd, and my heart skipped a beat. He stood out effortlessly, the star of the night, adorned in a dashing blue suit that complemented his commanding presence. Even from a distance, his features were unmistakable.
His piercing gray eyes, like a tempest trapped within his gaze, held a magnetic allure that drew me in. The way he carried himself exuded professionalism and an air of authority. Every contour of his face seemed more defined, intensifying his allure. His long, arched eyebrows framed his eyes with precision, leading to a perfectly pointed nose that added to his striking profile. His hawk-like eyes, sharp and perceptive, seemed to miss nothing in their surroundings. His thin lips, shaped like a delicate heart, possessed a subtle sensuality. Strong, square-angled jaws highlighted the strength of his character, while his crew cut hairstyle, a darkish gray hue that bordered on black, suited him to perfection.
Though something had changed in him. The once enchanting smirk that used to make my knees weak was nowhere to be seen. Instead, his expression held a cold detachment as he conversed with those around him. The captivating smile that once left me breathless seemed to have faded, replaced by a stern line that formed his lips whenever he spoke. The avaricious smirk, so dominating and enticing, had vanished, leaving behind a sense of mystery and distance.
My gaze remained fixated on him, tracing his every movement as if time had stood still. And then, in a moment that felt like eternity, our eyes finally connected amidst the swirling sea of people. As if electric currents surged through me, jolting my senses and causing shivers to course down my spine. It was as if the world had faded into the background, leaving only the two of us in that captivating moment.
In his intense gaze, I could sense a depth of emotion that mirrored my own. I had believed that I could bear the burden of longing, that I could endure the heaviness that came with our parting, but in that instant, his piercing eyes served to intensify the ache that resided deep within my heart.
But in that fleeting moment, as our eyes connected, the cruel hand of fate intervened. A sophisticated woman, adorned in elegance, materialized beside Denver, her presence captivating and undeniable. My heart plummeted as I watched her wrap her arms around him, their embrace a painful dagger thrust into the depths of my being.
He reciprocated the hug, and in that simple act, my world crumbled. The shards of my shattered hope pierced through my soul, leaving me gasping for breath. It was as if the air had been sucked out of the room, leaving me suffocating in the suffocating grip of despair. In that heart-wrenching moment, the butterflies that once fluttered within the confines of my stomach now lay lifeless, their wings stripped of their vibrant colors.
I stood there, a silent witness to the sight that tore at my heart. It was a betrayal, a reminder that my place in his life had been replaced. The pain radiated through every fiber of my being, a visceral ache that gnawed at my core. It was a feeling I had never anticipated, a raw and agonizing torment that seemed to consume me whole.
As they embraced, I felt my world shrink, confined to the space between them. My hopes and the love I had held so dearly were now encapsulated within that embrace, belonging to someone else. The realization struck me with a force I had never known, leaving me feeling small and insignificant. I could feel my tears welling up, threatening to spill over and betray my vulnerability. But I held them back, refusing to let them tarnish the facade of composure I had left. 
I realized on the night of his birthday that the person I had loved with every fiber of my being was now entwined in the arms of someone else.