Love Rivals: The Day I Saw Your Tears

90. I Respect You

He guided me to the couch and sat beside me, his tone earnest. “You know, the only sincere thing in our relationship since the day we met is that we’ve never looked down on each other. We’ve always respected one another. That’s what makes us rivals.”

He handed me a plate piled high with food, and as I took it, I couldn’t help but appreciate the gesture, despite my frustration. He grabbed his own plate, and we began our dinner, the sounds of a comedy movie filling the air around us, laughter blending with the tension that still lingered.

After a moment, Ryan glanced at me, concern etched on his face. “Why didn’t you eat lunch? I thought I broke your fast for you.”

I took a breath, trying to keep my irritation in check. “Honestly, I dislike sweets. They make me feel nauseous every time I eat them. Your mom insisted I have some yesterday morning, and all I managed was a piece of rasogulla.”

His expression shifted, genuine worry creeping in. “So you haven’t eaten anything since yesterday? How could you do that to yourself?”

Frustration bubbled up inside me. “On top of that, your dad made me cook this afternoon. I really dislike everyone in this house, except your mom.”

Ryan lowered his gaze, his voice softening. “I’m sorry. I had no idea about any of this.”

I switched the channel, and just like that, we were bickering over what to watch. The playful argument brought some much-needed levity to the tension, but it didn’t last long. A moment later, Ryan’s phone rang, and he excused himself to a corner of the room to take the call.

As he stepped away, his mom settled down beside me on the couch, her expression warm and thoughtful. “It’s been so long since Ryan has enjoyed himself and been playful at home,” she said, her gaze fixed on the television.

I raised an eyebrow, unsure of how to respond. “Huh?”

She continued, her voice tinged with nostalgia. “I remember when Vicky used to visit. He was so carefree back then. We used to leave him alone at home since he was fourteen, but we’ve been so caught up with work that sometimes we forgot we had a son waiting for us at home. I’m sure he must be happy to see someone waiting for him now. That’s why he tries to come home as soon as he can.”

I managed a smile, not quite knowing what to say. I felt bad for Ryan.

She reached over and gently patted my head, a gesture of affection. “God bless you two!” she said before getting up and heading back inside.

Ryan finished his call and quietly sat back down beside me, and we both turned our attention back to the movie. The plot was nearing its climax. Out of nowhere, I felt Ryan’s head gently rest on my shoulder. My breath hitched, my heart pounding so loudly. I could barely whisper his name, “Ryan,” my voice trembling with uncertainty. But he didn’t stir. He had fallen asleep.

I exhaled slowly as I tried to calm my nerves. Glancing down at him, I could see how peaceful he looked, his brow soft and his breathing steady. I felt a strange tightness in my chest, unsure if it was from anxiety or something else. I knew I should move, make space for him to lie down on the couch properly, so I gently shifted, trying not to disturb him.

But as I moved, his head slipped off my shoulder and landed right in my lap. I froze, every muscle tensing, my breath catching in my throat. My heart was racing again, and for a moment, I wasn’t sure what to do. I reached out with the intention of lifting his head, but when I looked down at him -- his face so serene, his body so still --I found myself hesitating.

Instead, something shifted inside me, and without realizing it, my fingers began to trace through his hair. It was soft and fluffy, strands slipping effortlessly between my fingers. A soft smile tugged at the corners of my lips, the tension in my body easing as I absentmindedly played with his hair.

He looked like a child completely lost in his dreams. And I realized, as the seconds turned into minutes, that I was enjoying every fleeting moment of it.