Love Rivals: The Day I Saw Your Tears

6. Confined Rooms Count The Number Of Tears

(Sarah's Pov)

I spotted the girl again, standing right outside Burger King where we were sitting. My mood, already soured, took a nosedive seeing her. My smile vanished in an instant.

Krystal noticed and asked, "What’s with the face? You look like you've seen a ghost."

I replied with a hint of frustration, "It’s like encountering a ghostly presence. I’m not in the mood to deal with this right now. Let’s leave; she’s coming inside."

As we stood up to leave, the girl collided with us while the waiter, who was with her, kept apologizing for the mishap. “It’s fine,” I said dismissively, turning to head out.

The girl scolded the waiter harshly before striding off to the restroom. Despite my best efforts to ignore the situation, I couldn’t shake the feeling. I understood all too well the frustration of being unfairly blamed and forced to clean up someone else’s mess, having dealt with similar issues at the café. Reluctantly, I turned back and began helping the waiter clear the spilled food.

“Sarah, let’s go,” Krystal called out, noticing I was still helping.

“Yeah, coming,” I replied. As I was picking up, I muttered under my breath, “I just hope Ryan isn’t here to see this mess again.”

“Are you talking about me?” a voice broke through.

I looked up to see Ryan sitting at the table next to the one we had just left. Of course, it had to be him. The hospital incident had already been mortifying enough, and now this -- why did I always end up making a fool of myself in front of him?

“I’m talking to you,” Ryan said, a smirk playing on his lips. “Did seeing me leave you speechless?”

I shook off my surprise and replied, “Oh, you’re here. Enjoy your meal.”

“Leaving so soon?” he asked, clearly intrigued.

“I’ve had enough, and it’s getting late. See you around,” I said, trying to make a quick exit.

“Well, I expected you to be bold, but I’m glad to see you haven’t lost your kindness,” he remarked.

“Thanks for the compliment,” I said, throwing a final glance over my shoulder before hurrying out of the restaurant, eager to escape the awkward situation.

When I got home, I was met with an unwelcome surprise -- my maternal uncle had come over, accompanied by his son.

“Your uncle’s here to celebrate,” Mom announced with a bright smile. “His son just passed the banking exam and will be starting at SBI.”

“Congratulations,” I said, trying to sound genuinely pleased.

Uncle, always one to stir the pot, asked, “So, Sarah, what’s new with you?”

I hesitated, and Mom quickly jumped in, “She’s studying for government exams and working part-time at Amreesh’s café.”

Uncle waved a dismissive hand. “Oh, that’s nice. But you really need to get those exams out of the way soon. At your age, girls should be starting their careers. My daughter is doing well with her online job, you know.”

Feeling the sting of his comments, I excused myself and retreated to my room. From there, I could hear their conversation clearly enough to pretend I wasn’t eavesdropping.

Uncle asked, “And what about Shriya?”

Mom’s voice lit up with pride. “Shriya has completed her B.Ed and is now teaching at Saint Xavier School. She’s also working on her Ph.D. and aims to become a university professor.”

Her eyes sparkled with admiration as she spoke about Shriya, her tone brimming with satisfaction. Since college, Mom’s voice had softened for Shriya, while mine had faded into indifference.

I had rejected the idea of pursuing a postgraduate degree and now struggled with unemployment and failed attempts at government exams. I wondered what there was for Mom to be proud of when it came to me.

Since that day, the mere thought of studying filled me with a deep, unsettling fear. I yearned to move forward, to reclaim some semblance of my former self, but every attempt felt like pushing against an invisible barrier. The intelligent girl I once was seemed to have evaporated into nothingness.

Sitting on the floor, knees drawn tightly to my chest, I felt an ache in my heart that mirrored the tears streaming down my face. “I’ve lost my old self,” I whispered, my voice choked with emotion. The room felt too small, the weight of my own disappointment pressing down on me like an unrelenting storm.