CHAPTER 9-- THE BREAKING POINT

Graduation day arrived with an air of excitement. The campus buzzed with laughter, friends clicking photos in gowns, throwing caps into the sky, and hugging each other with promises of staying in touch forever.

For Aariz, though, the day carried a heavier weight. His heart beat differently—it wasn’t just an ending of college, but a decision he had been carrying for years.

He had rehearsed the words countless times in his mind. In the mirror, in silence, in the pages of his diary. The sentences were simple, yet they had the power to change everything: “Ayla, I’ve loved you all along.”

As the celebrations thinned and groups began to scatter, Aariz found Ayla standing by the staircase, surrounded by a few close friends. She looked radiant—her gown flowing, her smile effortless.

He took a deep breath and walked towards her. Every step felt heavier, yet lighter at the same time.

Aariz (nervously, with a small smile):
“Ayla, can I talk to you for a moment? There’s something important I’ve been meaning to—”

Before he could finish, Ayla turned to the group with excitement in her eyes.

Ayla (beaming):
“Wait, wait—I need to tell you all something! Today feels perfect to share it. I wanted you guys to be the first to know… I’m in a relationship.”

Her friends gasped in joy, clapping and teasing her, while Ayla shyly lowered her eyes, cheeks glowing pink.

The sound of laughter filled the space, but for Aariz, it was as if the world had fallen silent. His half-spoken confession dissolved in the air, swallowed by her announcement.

He forced a smile, clapping along with the others.

Aariz (faintly):
“That’s… that’s great, Ayla. I’m really happy for you.”

But inside, a voice whispered:

“She never belonged to me. She never had to.”

When the crowd dispersed, Aariz slipped away quietly. The rain had returned again, soft at first, then pouring heavier, as if the sky mirrored his silence.

That night, he opened his diary one last time. His pen shook as he wrote, each word cutting deeper than the last:

“Maybe it was never about being loved back. Maybe it was only about loving. I don’t regret a single smile I gave her, even if none were mine to keep. If this is the end, let it be written here—she was my beginning and my ending.”

He closed the diary, pressing his hand over the cover like sealing a wound. The letter would never be given. It wasn’t meant to be.

The rain tapped gently against his window, carrying away the words he couldn’t say aloud.