A portrait of the unseen [COMPLETE]

Chapter 12 Other side

A year ago, I watched Lexa's career bloom from the shadows. She was doing amazing things, her talent and beauty drawing attention from all corners. My heart swelled with pride every time she achieved something new, but I couldn't share in her joy publicly. Our relationship had to remain hidden, a secret we both guarded fiercely to protect our careers.

Living together was supposed to be a dream come true, but the reality was far from it. Lexa's schedule was hectic, leaving her with little time to spend at home. I would wait for her every evening, hoping that today would be the day she came home early. I would prepare dinner and set the table for two, only to end up eating alone and packing away her untouched meal.

The nights were the hardest. I'd lie in bed, staring at the ceiling, listening for the sound of the door opening. But more often than not, I'd fall asleep alone, only to wake up to an empty house. The silence was suffocating, each absence feeling like a reminder of how distant we had become.

One night, I couldn't hold back the tears any longer. I sat on the living room couch, clutching a pillow to my chest as sobs wracked my body. The loneliness was unbearable, and I felt like I was slowly losing her. I wanted to be there for her, to support her in every way possible, but my own insecurities kept me from reaching out.

"Why am I not enough?" I whispered to the empty room, my voice barely audible over my crying. "Why can't I make her happy?"

I cried until I was exhausted, my tears soaking the pillow. I felt like a failure, like I wasn't good enough for the woman I loved. Lexa deserved someone who could be there for her, someone who could celebrate her successes and comfort her during her lows. And despite my best efforts, I felt like I was falling short.

The next morning, I woke up with swollen eyes and a heavy heart. Lexa had already left for another busy day, her side of the bed untouched. I tried to push down the feelings of inadequacy and focus on supporting her from afar. I cheered for her silently, sending her positive thoughts and hoping she could feel my love, even if I wasn't physically there.

When I finally had the time when Lexa was here in our apartment, it didn't give a good memory

I walked into our apartment to find Lexa sitting on the couch, her shoulders slumped, and her face buried in her hands. She looked utterly devastated. The sight of her in such pain made my heart ache.

"Lexa?" I said softly, approaching her.

She looked up at me, her eyes red and puffy from crying. "Ryu... I got the lowest role in a small company. After everything, this is all I could manage."

I sat down beside her and took her hand in mine. "I'm so sorry, Lexa. I know how hard you've been working."

Tears welled up in her eyes again, and she looked away. "I feel like such a failure. I thought I was finally getting somewhere, but now it feels like I'm back at square one."

I wanted to do something, anything, to help her. But I knew that my hands were tied. My father's influence was the only thing that could make a real difference, and I had been avoiding that conversation for so long. The memories of the trauma I had endured, the reason for my facial blindness, and the strained relationship with my father all came rushing back.

But seeing Lexa like this, so broken and defeated, made my decision clear. I couldn't stand by and do nothing. I had to try, for her.

"I'll be right back," I told her, squeezing her hand. "I have something important to do."

She looked at me with confusion, but I didn't give her a chance to ask questions. I quickly left the apartment and made my way to my father's office. The journey felt longer than usual, each step weighed down by the anxiety and fear of facing him.

When I arrived, I was escorted into his office. My father was sitting at his large desk, looking up from a stack of papers as I entered. His expression was stern, as always.

"Ryu," he said, a hint of surprise in his voice. "To what do I owe this visit?"

I took a deep breath and stepped forward, my resolve strengthening. "Father, I need to talk to you about something very important."

He raised an eyebrow, leaning back in his chair. "Go on."

"I know we've had our differences, and I know you don't approve of many of my choices," I began, my voice steady. "But there's something I need to ask of you. It's about Lexa."

His expression hardened. "The girl you've been seeing?"

"Yes," I replied. "She's incredibly talented and hardworking, but she's been struggling to get the recognition she deserves. She needs a real opportunity, and I believe our company can give that to her."

My father sighed, clearly displeased. "Ryu, you know how I feel about mixing personal matters with business."

"I know," I said, my voice breaking slightly. "But I'm asking you as your daughter, not as a businesswoman. Lexa means everything to me, and I can't stand seeing her in pain."

I took a deep breath, then did something I hadn't done since I was a child-I kneeled down in front of him. Tears streamed down my face as I looked up at him, pleading with my eyes.

"Father, please," I said, my voice trembling. "This is the last thing I will ever ask of you. After everything I've been through, after all the trauma, the accident that caused my facial blindness... I need this. Please, help her."

For a moment, there was only silence. My father looked at me, his expression unreadable. Then, he stood up and walked around the desk, stopping in front of me.

"Ryu," he said quietly, his voice softer than I had ever heard it. "Stand up."

I did as he asked, my legs shaking.

He placed a hand on my shoulder. "You have never asked for anything for yourself. And despite our differences, I have always respected your strength. If this is what you need, then I will help Lexa. But understand, this is not just for her-it's for you. Because you are my daughter, and I love you."

Tears flowed freely down my cheeks as I nodded, overwhelmed with emotion.

He nodded, his own eyes glistening with unshed tears.

I left his office, my heart feeling lighter than it had in years. I hurried back to our apartment, bursting through the door to find Lexa already asleep on the couch.

I want to tell her the good news, but I don't want to ruin her confidence

I look at her looking so drained, but I am happy that there is something I can do for her