He said “I love you, my sweet love”. She blinked her eyes in shyness and blushed. But they both knew, deep down in their hearts what the words meant and how hollow they sounded, ricocheting off their hearts. Every moment they spent with each other, it lead to fearing the other’s absence and the empty spaces they would leave. She knew whatever she did, he may never understand what he meant to her. He tried his best to show her his love and affection, but failed.
Laying in bed one night, the hopes riding against crashing waves of agony, sadness and hopelessness, she knew what was about to come. Fighting back tears, she turned to face him, sleeping silently and beautifully. She couldn’t say anything neither did she want to. She contemplated getting out of bed and crying herself hoarse in the balcony or just staying in and looking at him. But he wasn’t sleeping, he stayed awake and listened to her breathe, choking on her tears, while he felt the same way she did. Every night, for the past one year, they have lain like that, none of them able to tell the other anything. The silence weighed them down like boulders on their backs, crushing them each day. But he trudged on for her, and she held his hand.
They stayed like that, next to each other, not saying a word and waited for the morning light to sift in through the windows. She heaved a sigh of relief, ran her fingers through her hair and got ready for the day.
He stayed in bed, watched her as she stepped out of her bath, her naked body moving through the room. She puts on her kohl and mascara, ties up her hair, pecks him on his cheeks and goes out. Still, he never…