Whisphers Of Lost Love

The Hidden longings

Chapter:

Edward sat in the silence of his room, Scarlett’s diary open in his hands, feeling her words draw him into a world he had once overlooked. With each line, her thoughts wrapped around him like a secret spell, vivid and vulnerable.

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Scarlett’s Diary

"I don't know if I should feel happy or foolish for coming to this dinner party. Sitting here, glancing across the table at Edward—my Edward. No, I can’t even claim him as that. He's hers… yet he's everything to me.

Tonight, he looked so effortlessly handsome, his laughter mixing with Laura's, their fingers intertwined on the table. The moment made me feel like a stranger, like I was staring into a life I’d never get to call my own. But I couldn’t look away.

When I excused myself to the terrace, I felt the weight of every unspoken feeling pressing against my chest. I tried to breathe in the night air, hoping it would dilute the bitterness I held inside, but instead, my eyes fell upon the small garden near the edge of the terrace—the very place we shared that unexpected conversation months ago, where he had draped his jacket over my shoulders without a second thought.

It’s strange. Even now, I can almost feel that jacket around me, as if it’s still carrying his warmth. I remember how he didn’t even let me protest that night, gently but firmly guiding me to his car, his touch so steady against my back. I wanted to melt under it, to say something more, to confess… but I held back, burying the words behind a polite smile.

If only he could know the truth—the truth that I still haven’t dared to tell anyone. I feel as though my heart’s beating is a crime, a betrayal against my friend Laura, against Edward’s trust, and, sometimes, against myself. Yet no matter how hard I try to silence these feelings, they pulse louder than ever.

And then tonight, as I stood alone on the terrace, he joined me. He leaned beside me, his shoulder barely touching mine, just enough to send a shiver down my spine. There was no grand confession or playful banter, only a quiet comfort I couldn’t explain. In that silence, I dared to imagine he felt it too. But maybe I was fooling myself.

‘I’m here if you need anything, Scarlett,’ he had said softly, his voice a warmth that was both soothing and heartbreaking. I wanted to tell him I needed him, more than I needed air, more than I’d ever need anyone else. But instead, I smiled, and in that smile, I swallowed my truth."

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Edward’s fingers tightened around the edges of the diary as he read her confession. The warmth of her words wrapped around him, but they also stung. The depth of her longing, buried so deeply in her, was something he never realized she carried. And that quiet moment on the terrace—he remembered it, remembered thinking how beautifully calm she looked in the moonlight.

But he had missed it all, failed to see the turmoil beneath her composed smile. Scarlett had been both bold and heartbreakingly fragile, holding her feelings close while watching him from a distance, hoping for a future they both knew was impossible.

With every turn of the page, Edward could feel the silent love that Scarlett had buried within herself—a love he hadn’t understood until now. And in that stillness, he mourned not just the loss of Scarlett’s life, but the love he had unknowingly allowed to fade with her.