Loving You In Silent

7

The months dragged on, each one more strained than the last. It had been six months since Jennie and my brother, V, started dating. At first, it seemed perfect—like something out of a cheesy romantic movie. But as time passed, the cracks in their relationship became harder to ignore.

Jennie confided in me constantly, turning our once-lighthearted conversations into endless late-night talks about their arguments.

“He just doesn’t listen, Lisa,” Jennie would say, frustration evident in her voice. “It’s like he doesn’t even care about how I feel sometimes.”

I listened, as I always did. I listened when she vented about how V forgot their plans, or how he dismissed her feelings, or how he turned every fight into a joke. I listened even though every word made me feel like I was suffocating.

Because deep down, I couldn’t stop caring about Jennie. Even if all I could ever be was the shoulder she cried on.

---

Then everything came crashing down.

It was late in the evening when Jennie called me, her voice shaking with barely restrained sobs.

“He cheated on me,” she said, the words trembling as they fell. “Lisa, he cheated on me.”

I froze, the air rushing out of my lungs. My brother had always been charming, but I never thought he’d do something like this. I didn’t know what to say—what could I say?

“I’m so sorry, Jennie,” I managed to whisper.

Her sobs deepened, and I could hear the raw pain in every breath she took. Without thinking, I grabbed my keys and headed out the door.

When I reached her apartment, Jennie was curled up on the couch, her face buried in a pillow. Her shoulders shook with each sob, and it broke my heart to see her like this.

“Jennie,” I said softly, kneeling beside her. She turned to look at me, her tear-streaked face contorted with pain.

“I don’t understand,” she choked out. “I gave him everything, and this is what I get? Was I not enough?”

I sat down beside her, pulling her into a hug. She didn’t resist, burying her face in my shoulder.

“It’s not your fault,” I said firmly. “You didn’t deserve this, Jennie. You didn’t do anything wrong.”

She cried for what felt like hours, and I stayed there, holding her, offering whatever comfort I could.

---

But something shifted after that night.

Jennie grew distant—not just from V, but from everyone. She stopped showing up to class, stopped answering texts, stopped coming to the café. Even when I managed to catch her, it was like she wasn’t really there.

“Are you okay?” I asked one day after class, cornering her as she tried to leave without saying a word.

“I’m fine,” she replied curtly, not meeting my gaze.

“You don’t seem fine,” I pressed.

“I said I’m fine, Lisa,” she snapped before walking away, leaving me standing there, stunned and confused.

---

The next day, Jennie didn’t show up to school. I waited for her in our usual spots, hoping she’d text me, but there was nothing. By the time evening rolled around, I couldn’t take it anymore.

I stopped by her favorite takeout place and picked up her favorite food, hoping it would cheer her up. When I knocked on her apartment door, it took her an eternity to answer.

When she finally opened the door, she looked disheveled—her eyes puffy and her hair a mess.

“What are you doing here?” she asked, her voice flat.

“I was worried,” I said, holding up the takeout bag with a small smile. “I thought you might be hungry.”

She barely glanced at the bag before turning away. “I’m not hungry.”

I hesitated. “Jennie, talk to me. What’s going on?”

She didn’t respond, walking back to the couch and curling up into a ball.

I set the food on the table and sat down beside her. “Jennie, please. I’m here for you. You don’t have to go through this alone.”

Her silence stretched on, heavy and oppressive. Finally, she looked at me, her eyes brimming with something I couldn’t quite place—anger, sadness, exhaustion.

“Why do you even care so much?” she burst out, her voice sharp and cutting. “Why do you keep showing up like some... like some pathetic little puppy?”

I recoiled, her words slicing through me like a blade. “Jennie, I’m just trying to help—”

“Well, I don’t want your help!” she yelled, her voice cracking. “I don’t want your pity, Lisa. I don’t need you to keep acting like you’re some kind of savior.”

Her words hit me harder than they should have. I stared at her, struggling to process what she’d just said.

“Jennie,” I said quietly, my voice trembling, “I’m not here because I pity you. I’m here because I care.”

“Well, I didn’t ask you to!” she shot back, her voice rising again. “I didn’t ask you to care, Lisa. I didn’t ask you to keep showing up and making me feel worse than I already do!”

Her words hung in the air, heavy and suffocating. For a moment, neither of us said anything.

Finally, I stood up, my hands clenched at my sides. “Fine,” I said, my voice barely above a whisper. “If that’s what you want, I’ll leave.”

I turned toward the door, pausing only briefly to glance back at her. She was sitting there, her arms wrapped tightly around herself, her expression a mix of anger and pain.

“I just wanted to help,” I said softly, the disappointment evident in my voice. “But if you don’t want me here… I’ll go.”

And with that, I left, closing the door behind me.

---

As I walked away, my chest felt impossibly heavy, like I was carrying the weight of every unsaid word, every moment I wished had gone differently.

Jennie’s anger replayed in my mind, over and over again. I knew she was hurting, but I couldn’t shake the feeling that I’d somehow made everything worse.

And for the first time in months, I let myself wonder if maybe Jennie didn’t need me after all.

---
Another day another update