Dear Diary,
I don't know how long I can endure all of this...
All the feelings that shouldn't have been there from the beginning...
Yet, I always force them to exist...
I know that everything happens for a reason...
But I don't have a reason to love him...
I just feel it's right, and he is the right person for me to love...
Dear Diary,
No one knows the depths of the heart...
Like me, who can't guess what's in his heart, how he feels about me...
But one thing I know...
In my eyes, there is only him...
In my heart, his name is written...
Even in every prayer I utter, I always hope he becomes my man...
Yet You has spoken, that what I like may not be good for me, and what I don't like might be right for me...
So now I decide to surrender...
Because reaching him seems impossible...
So I let my heart find solace elsewhere...
Because I can't wait anymore.
Because I'm not that patient...
I will find happiness above his happiness... always... forever...
Let this feeling be stored in my heart, not to be forgotten, but just a reminder that at some point,
I loved him deeply...
And let the other side of my heart be open to receive the love that You have chosen for me...
***
Flavia looked at the mirror in front of her. The eye bags looked very dark, indicating that she wasn't getting enough rest.
She's tired, that's a fact. All day-and even for the past few days-she has been busy going back and forth between the house, the café and the police station to complete the report on the fire that broke out at her café.
And that's not all. Last night, Flavia stayed up late to calculate the amount of losses she suffered. Also, she calculated the compensation she had to pay to the owner of the building next to her café and also the hospital costs for several employees and customers who fortunately only received minor injuries, not causing fatalities.
Flavia wanted to wail, but she quickly recovered her thoughts. 'Remember, Via. There is always a blessing in every disaster.' she muttered to herself.
Her thoughts were interrupted when she heard a knock on her bedroom door. "Enter." She said in a higher tone without taking her attention from the mirror. The door opened, and the figure of a beautiful woman twelve years older than her appeared and stepped closer with a glass of cold juice in her hand.
"Tired?" The woman asked as she put the juice on the dressing table. Flavia looked into the beautiful woman's eyes in the mirror and nodded her head.
The woman's hand reached out and stroked Flavia's jet-black hair and smiled reassuringly, making Flavia close her eyes and feel the comfort that the woman gave her.
"Everything will be fine." The woman said again in a calming tone as she hugged Flavia's shoulder gently. Flavia couldn't help but bring her head closer to the woman's stomach and hugged her waist tightly. Without her wanting it, the tears she had been holding back for the past few days just fell.
No words of comfort. Just a stroke that gently stroked Flavia's head, shoulders and back.
Flavia is not a crybaby. She is a girl who has been used to keeping everything to herself since she was young. But ever since she got to know the woman she was now hugging-a woman who was none other than her stepmother-Flavia felt she had someone to complain to and complain about.
She is Mrs. Claire Hampton Quirino, her stepmother, her father's second wife, who is also the aunt of Flavia's best friend, Abigail Hampton. The woman she chose to be her new mother. The woman she believed not only loved his father but also her.
Need to know how much time has passed. Flavia finished crying in her mother's arms until she felt relieved.
"Take a shower, then we'll have dinner together. Your daddy is already downstairs." Mrs. Quirino said that Flavia answered with a nod.
Once again, Mrs. Quirino stroked Flavia's hair and kissed the top of her head gently before finally leaving the room. Flavia didn't take her eyes off her stepmother until the figure disappeared behind the door.
After all the sorrow and loneliness she felt during the thirteen years of his life, she finally met a woman who filled the role of mother who not only loved his father but also loved her like her own biological child.
Flavia smiled. Her memories returned to the time when she and her best friend-Abigail-did many things-including silly things-to melt the woman's hard heart so that the woman could accept her widower father - who also had a huge age difference - as her husband, and herself as the woman's child.
Now, ten years have passed. Flavia is grateful that Claire is her mother. She never felt what people said about her cruel stepmother. Even when her mother began to get pregnant with Flavia's brother, people started gossiping again and said that Flavia would be put aside and eventually forgotten, which never came true. In fact, she is happy to have Claire as her stepmother, and she is sure she will feel that way forever.
Flavia patted her cheeks, took a deep breath and got up from her seat. Everyone certainly knows that she's not doing well right now, but that doesn't mean she has to drag on being sad, either.
At least for the sake of the people she loves for her mental well-being, too, she must be strong.
Fifteen minutes later, Flavia, who felt much fresher, came down to the dining room.
Her first brother, Ignazio, who would soon be nine years old, walked from the living room to the dining room. At a relatively young age, he has a handsome and charming face. His gaze was always soft and calming. Flavia is sure that when she grows up, there will be lots of women chasing him.
Meanwhile, her second sister, Francisca. The little girl, who is now five years old, is having a hard time helping her mother and household assistant to move food from the kitchen to the table. Just like the charming Ignazio, at a very young age, Francisca also looks lovely with long brownish hair, white skin and a face that is a mix between her mother and father.