Love Rivals: The Day I Saw Your Tears

80. Waiting Tests My Patience

The next morning, I found myself without breakfast, the quiet of the house echoing my solitude. No one was waiting for me in the living room, and it felt as if time had reverted to a chapter of my life I wished to forget.

As the days slipped by, a week passed in a blur.

I was deeply absorbed in reading a thesis in my room when my phone buzzed, pulling me out of my focus. It was a notification from Krystal, inviting me to her engagement.

The next evening, I got ready for the ring ceremony, my thoughts elsewhere as I straightened my clothes. On my way to the venue, I stopped by a store and chose a beautiful gift for Krystal. As I entered the decorated hallway, filled with laughter and celebration, my eyes instinctively scanned the crowd, searching for Sarah.

After spotting Krystal, I approached her with a smile, handing over the gift. She grinned mischievously, clearly amused by my distracted demeanor.

“I can tell you’re already looking for your so-called wife,” she teased, a knowing glint in her eyes.

I chuckled, about to respond, but she cut me off, reading the question forming on my face. "Don’t worry, she’ll be back soon. I sent her on an important mission -- to get me some ice cream.”

I laughed, shaking my head as she moved on to greet other guests. I found a spot to wait, observing the guests, while my thoughts drifted back to Sarah.

Minutes later, she appeared. Sarah walked in, balancing a popsicle in one hand and an ice cream cup in the other, casually eating. She looked breathtaking in a black saree with a delicate silver border that shimmered with each step. Her hair flowed gently with the air, giving her an effortlessly elegant look. Every time I saw her dressed like that, I couldn’t help but stare. Moreover, the sindoor on her forehead shimmered softly, giving me a strange, unexpected sense of pleasure.

Sarah joined her friends, and soon they were caught up in a lively conversation. Amid their chatter, she noticed my gift sitting on a nearby chair. With a playful stomp, she kicked the chair, sending my gift tumbling to the floor.

I seized the moment and approached her, smirking as I grabbed the ice cream cup from her hand and took a bite. I searched for her gift and grabbed it immediately.

She narrowed her eyes at me, “What are you doing? Give that back!” she said, reaching for the gift, but I pulled it just out of her reach.

Her eyes narrowed with determination as she tried to grab her gift from me. “You think this is funny?” she asked.

As she lunged for the gift, I kept switching it between my hands, making her chase it. During our playful struggle, I suddenly found her much closer to me than intended, our faces inches apart. My heart started racing.

“Sarah,” I said softly, my voice low, “watch out.”

She blinked, realizing how close we had gotten. She flustered. She finally managed to snatch her gift back from my hand. I chuckled as she stepped back, putting a little more distance between us.

I had been watching her the entire evening, waiting for a moment to talk. But Sarah was constantly surrounded, moving from one group of people to another, her attention always demanded elsewhere. It seemed like she was too busy to even catch her breath. My eyes trailed her movements, searching for an opening, but it never came. Even as the function drew to a close, I kept waiting.

After the event, I found myself standing outside, determined not to leave without speaking to her. At last, Sarah appeared, heading toward a waiting taxi. Without thinking, I walked up to her, my steps quickening as I got closer.

“Sarah, wait—I need to talk to you,” I said, my voice louder than intended, catching her attention.

She stopped for a moment but didn’t turn fully, just glancing over her shoulder. “It’s late,” she muttered, her tone clipped, before continuing toward the taxi.

Frustration bubbled up inside me. I reached out, grabbing her wrist gently but firmly, pulling her back toward me. “This won’t take long. Just listen to me,” I insisted, my voice carrying a sense of urgency.

She pulled her arm free, her eyes flashing with irritation. “I don’t feel like talking to you right now,” she snapped, stepping back with a look that told me she wanted nothing more than to get away.

Not willing to let her leave, I quickly said, “Mom wants you to come home.”

She crossed her arms, her expression hardening as she faced me fully for the first time. “And why would I do that?” she asked, her voice dripping with defiance. “I’m not planning to step foot in that house again.”

Her words hit me, and I felt my patience slipping. “Sarah, we’re not divorced yet. You can’t keep acting like this—you’re behaving like a child,” I said, the frustration seeping into my voice.

She didn’t even hesitate. “Then divorce me,” she shot back, her voice steady.

For a moment, I didn’t know how to respond. But the words hit like a sharp dagger in my chest.