Secret Admirer

34. Lights

Kayu's voice cracked slightly as he glared at Ciro, his hands clenched into fists at his sides. "Khun Ciro, did you really think I would just accept your feelings and run into your arms after everything you have done?" he demanded, his tone biting, but his heart thundering in his chest.

He stubbornly held back the tears that were threatening to fall from his eyes. He had promised himself that he wouldn't cry, not in front of Ciro, not for Ciro.

Ciro didn't reply right away. He simply stood there, his expression quiet but his eyes focused on Kayu as if searching for something beneath his anger. 

He was ashamed that the things that he had done, considering them as harmless ones had hurt Kayu to this extend and had worsened their relationship so much. He didn't dare make any demand only amends. 

The silence stretched between them, heavy and suffocating, until Kayu let out a bitter laugh.

" I admit, there was indeed a time," Kayu admitted, his voice quieter now, "when I might have done exactly that. When I actually had feelings for you." He looked away, his gaze settling on the distant lights of the fair behind them. "But not anymore. I have long let go of my feelings for you. I am over you, Khun Ciro."

Even as the words left his lips, Kayu felt a lump forming in his throat. His chest felt tight, and he stubbornly blinked back the tears that threatened to fall. He had promised himself long ago that he wouldn't show his vulnerability to anyone—least of all to Ciro, the person who had hurt him the most.

Ciro exhaled softly, his shoulders sinking slightly as if he was absorbing the weight of Kayu's words. "I never wanted to pressure you to accept my feelings, Kayu," he said quietly. "I just... I wanted to apologize. Truly. I don't expect you to feel the same way, but I hoped you could at least forgive me and remain good friends."

He really hated the idea of not being able to see Kayu by his side any longer. Even if it was for the sake of their friendship, if only Kayu agreed to stay be his side, he would be satisfied.

Kayu's lips twisted into a bitter smile. "Forgive you? Do you think your apology will undo the damage you have already caused? It won't." His voice wavered for a split second before he steadied it again. "I don't need your apology, and I certainly don't need a friend who is capable of backstabbing me like you did."

Ciro's expression tightened, but he didn't argue. He only said, "I understand, but—"

"I don't care what you understand," Kayu cut him off sharply, his tone icy. "I just wish my notice period would end already so I would never have to see your face again." 

With that, he spun on his heel and walked away, his strides long and purposeful.

As he put more distance between them, Kayu's steps began to slow. He glanced down at his phone, hesitating for a moment before pulling up the dating app. Without a second thought, he deleted his account and uninstalled the app. 

The screen went dark as he stuffed the phone back into his pocket, letting out a shaky breath.

Everything he had done till now, starting from meeting June and accepting his marriage proposal to chatting with Honeybear in the dating app using a fake ID, had been to forget his one-sided love for Ciro and move on. Yet, it only made things worse than before. 

Kayu wasn't the kind of person who held onto grudges. He never had been. Yet, when it came to Ciro, he couldn't bring himself to let go. He had no bad feelings for June. But he couldn't say the same about Ciro. 

Maybe it was because he had loved Ciro so much. Maybe it was because Ciro's betrayal had cut deeper than he wanted to admit. What Ciro had done wasn't unforgivable, not in the grand scheme of things, but the sting of it lingered.

More than anything, Kayu hated the part of himself that still wanted to believe in Ciro, to give him another chance. But he wouldn't do it. He couldn't. He refused to let his feelings make a fool of him again.

It wasn't until he glanced around at his surroundings that Kayu realized how far he had wandered. The fairgrounds were nowhere in sight. Instead, he was surrounded by trees and silence, the air growing cooler as the sun dipped lower in the sky. 

Pulling out his phone, he turned on the flashlight and began retracing his steps, but the deeper he went, the less sure he became of his direction.

Darkness crept in, and with it, a sense of unease. 

Kayu quickened his pace, his footsteps crunching against the gravel path. He hated to admit it, but fear was beginning to claw at the edges of his mind. Just as he was about to stop and call someone for help, the world around him suddenly lit up.

Kayu froze, his breath catching in his throat. The ground ahead of him was a sea of glowing white roses, their delicate petals illuminated by soft LED lights. 

The flower garden in the story resembles the breathtaking display in the image.  The artificial flowers are meticulously arranged, creating an endless stretch of light that seems to guide the way. 

The glow is both calming and surreal, casting a magical ambiance against the backdrop of the dark night.

The light spread out in all directions, transforming the dark, unfamiliar path into a mesmerizing garden of light. The roses, though artificial, were breathtakingly beautiful, their glow casting a warm, ethereal radiance against the night.

Kayu's feet moved forward of their own accord, drawn toward the stunning sight before him. The white roses stretched endlessly, creating a path that seemed to lead somewhere. He walked slowly, his steps tentative, as if afraid the magical scene would disappear if he moved too quickly.

As he reached the center of the glowing rose garden, his breath hitched. Right in the middle of the sea of white roses, spelled out in glowing blue ones, were the words: I'm sorry.

Kayu's heart clenched. He stood there, motionless, staring at the words as a thousand emotions surged within him—confusion, anger, sorrow, and something he couldn't quite name.

His hands trembled as he reached up to rub at his eyes, wondering if the sight before him was real or some cruel illusion. But no matter how many times he blinked, the words remained, shining softly in the night.