When I first found out about Yara’s secret crush on me, my first reaction was panic. I tried to ignore the odd, secret pleasure it gave me and, instinctively, snapped at her.
Then Melissa came into the picture. She’d done some favors for my family and suggested a marriage alliance. After giving it some thought, I made my decision.
I chose Melissa. I followed her wishes and sent Yara away, unknowingly creating a five-year gap in her life, and in mine.
I never could have predicted how things would turn out.
Melissa and I had agreed on a six-year marriage. But she wasn’t ready to let go. She wanted more. And when Yara returned, everything changed.
Melissa grew anxious. She wanted to hurt Yara.
I couldn’t even bring myself to imagine what might have happened if Melissa had succeeded.
That day, I realized something I had been avoiding, I could never lose Yara.
I divorced Melissa, but at that point, I still had no clue what was going on with Yara’s child. But what I did know was that I had feelings for her.
If she would have me, I’d gladly take the role of the third wheel.
After some digging, I discovered the truth: the child wasn’t hers, but the daughter of her late mentor.
And with that, a wild joy rushed over me. Yara hadn’t dated, hadn’t married, she was raising a child on her own. Did this mean I still had a chance?
I reached out to her. But when I did, nothing was like I expected.
She shut me down.
Then, I found myself in the hospital with a stomach ulcer from too much drinking. I saw Yara, but she didn’t see me.
After she left, a couple of nurses were talking about her. That’s when I found out she had kidney problems and might need a transplant.
And that’s when I made a decision, one that seemed a little crazy, but in that moment, it was the only choice I had left.
I had buried myself in work all these years, and with death looming closer, I wanted to leave something behind for Yara.
She didn’t want my inheritance, so I’d give her something else.
She could hate me. She could skip my funeral. But I hoped, in some way, she would remember me.
I signed the donation agreement, and for the first time in a long while, I felt a bit of peace.
Yara, I hope you can remember me, just not the way you did before.
Even if I’m gone one day, at least I’ll have left something that matters.
I never told her any of this.
It’s a shame. There will be no more chances for us.
