Twisted love

Silent Longing

(Andrew's POV)
Present day

Chapter five

The soft hum of the air conditioner filled the room, the only sound in the quiet, dimly lit apartment. Katherine sat curled up on the couch, staring blankly at the muted TV, lost in her thoughts. I stood at the doorway, watching her, my heart aching for her pain, for the weight she carried alone. I wanted to reach out, to say something, but words felt hollow in moments like these.

I'd been here before—so many times—standing on the sidelines, helpless, wishing I could do more than just offer her my silent company. I had become an expert at reading her moods, the way her shoulders slumped when she was too tired to fight, the distant look in her eyes when the memories overwhelmed her. I could sense when she was on the verge of breaking down and when she was forcing herself to hold it all together. And every time, I stayed close, ready to catch her if she fell, even though I knew I could never truly take away the hurt.

It was unbearable, being so close yet so far. I'd spent years by her side, waiting for her to see me the way I saw her, but all she saw was the friend who had saved her once, the one she trusted but could never love the way I loved her.

I leaned against the wall, my chest tightening as I thought back to that night, the one that had broken her. The video, the betrayal, the pregnancy. She didn't deserve any of it. She deserved so much more—more than Oliver, more than the lies, more than the pain she carried.

But she didn't know the truth, not yet. If she did, would it change things? Would she see me differently, or would she hate me for the part I played in all of this? I kept telling myself it wasn't the right time, that she wasn't ready for the truth, but deep down, I was scared—scared of losing her, of losing the only piece of her I had left.

"Andrew?" Her voice pulled me out of my thoughts. She turned to look at me, her expression soft but tired, her eyes still clouded with the sadness that had been her constant companion for years.

"Yeah?" I straightened up, stepping into the room, trying to mask the turmoil in my chest.

"Why do you always do this?" she asked, her voice barely above a whisper.

"Do what?"

"Watch me... like you're waiting for me to fall apart."

I opened my mouth to respond, but the words caught in my throat. How could I explain it to her? How could I tell her that I wasn't just watching, I was hoping—hoping that one day, she would turn to me, not just for comfort, but because she wanted me, needed me in ways she never had before.

"I'm not... I just want to be here for you," I said, settling for the safer answer. "You've been through so much, Kat."

She smiled weakly at the nickname. "You always know when something's wrong."

I nodded, trying to swallow the lump in my throat. She had no idea. No idea how long I'd been in love with her, how every time I saw her in pain, it tore me apart. How every time I was near her, my heart raced like a lovesick fool, and how, no matter how hard I tried, I couldn't let her go.

"Do you ever feel like... you're stuck?" she asked after a long pause. "Like no matter how much time passes, you can't move on?"

I nodded, more to myself than to her. "Yeah... all the time."

She looked up at me, and for a brief second, I thought I saw something different in her eyes. Something deeper, something vulnerable. But then, just as quickly, it was gone, replaced by the familiar wall she always kept up.

Katherine wasn't the same girl I'd rescued all those years ago. Back then, she was shattered, a shadow of herself, drowning in grief and guilt. But over the years, I'd watched her rebuild herself piece by piece, grow stronger, fiercer. She'd thrown herself into her career, becoming a psychologist that people admired and trusted. But no matter how successful she became, I knew that part of her was still broken inside. And I knew that, in a way, she'd never let herself heal completely because she was still holding on to the past. Still holding on to him.

I clenched my fists, the familiar bitterness rising in my chest. Oliver. Even after all this time, he still had a hold over her. He didn't deserve it—didn't deserve her. But every time I thought we were getting closer, every time I thought she might be ready to move on, something pulled her back to him.

If only she knew the truth about him, maybe then she'd finally see that I was the one who had always been there for her. But even if she knew, what difference would it make? She still didn't love me, not in the way I loved her.

I sank down onto the couch beside her, close enough to feel the warmth of her body, but not touching. She leaned into me slightly, resting her head on my shoulder, and I allowed myself the smallest bit of hope. Maybe tonight, maybe in this moment, she needed me more than just a friend.

"Andrew," she whispered. "I don't know what I'd do without you."

The words pierced me, both a comfort and a curse. She needed me, yes. But not in the way I wanted.

I closed my eyes, savoring the weight of her head against my shoulder, pretending, just for a moment, that this was more than it was. That she was mine, and that I was the one she longed for.

But then, like always, reality crashed in. I would never be more than this to her. The friend. The safe place. And I was running out of time. Oliver was back, and no matter how much I hated it, I could see the way she still looked at him. It was only a matter of time before he wormed his way back into her heart, and I couldn't let that happen. Not again.

I would protect her, even if it meant keeping her from the truth a little longer. Because if she ever found out what I'd done all those years ago—she would hate me. And I couldn't bear the thought of losing her.

"You're quiet tonight," she said, pulling back slightly to look at me.

"Just thinking," I murmured, forcing a smile.

"About what?"

"About how lucky I am to have you in my life."

She smiled, but it didn't reach her eyes. "I'm the lucky one, Andrew. You've always been there for me."

She had no idea. And she never would.

I stood up, needing to put some distance between us before I did something reckless—like kiss her, or confess everything.

"I should get going," I said, grabbing my jacket. "Early meeting tomorrow."

She looked up at me, and for a second, I thought she might ask me to stay. But she didn't.

"Thanks for stopping by," she said softly, her gaze falling back to the TV.

As I left, closing the door quietly behind me, I couldn't shake the feeling that I was losing her. And this time, I wasn't sure I could stop it.

As I walked down the hallway, I clenched my fists, steeling myself for what was to come. Oliver was back, and I could see the way things were shifting between them. But I wouldn't let him take her from me—not without a fight.

I had waited years for this, for the chance to show her that I was the one who truly loved her, the one who would never hurt her the way he had. And now, with him back in the picture, I had to act fast. I couldn't sit by and watch as she slipped through my fingers.

I would protect her from the truth, protect her from Oliver, and most importantly, protect her from falling for the wrong man again.

Because Katherine didn't belong with Oliver. She belonged with me.

And I was going to make sure that, one way or another, she realized it.