Loving You In Silent

6

He asked her out. She said yes.

“Oh,” was all I managed to say, the word hanging awkwardly between us. I gripped my coffee cup tightly, trying to focus on its warmth rather than the sudden chill I felt deep inside.

Jennie’s eyes darted back to mine, full of uncertainty. “Lisa, I—”

“It’s fine,” I interrupted, forcing a smile onto my face. “I mean, that’s great, right? You and V… that’s—”

“You’re okay with it?” she asked softly, cutting me off. Her gaze was steady, like she could see right through me.

“Of course I am,” I lied, the words burning on their way out. “Why wouldn’t I be? My brother’s great.”

Jennie didn’t look convinced, but she didn’t push the subject. Instead, she sat back in her seat, her expression guarded now. I hated that I’d caused it—that slight shift in the air between us.

For the rest of our conversation, I stayed quiet, letting Jennie talk about V—how funny he was, how much he made her laugh, how easy everything felt with him. I listened, nodding at all the right moments, smiling when I needed to.

But inside, I felt like I was breaking apart.

---

That night, I lay in bed staring at the ceiling, replaying Jennie’s words over and over again. Your brother asked me out. I said yes.

It didn’t matter that I’d known for months that Jennie and V got along well. I’d seen it at the sports event—how easily they laughed together, how comfortable they were. V had always been good at being the guy everyone liked. He was outgoing, funny, and full of effortless charm—everything I wasn’t.

Of course she’d say yes to him.

Still, the ache in my chest wouldn’t go away. I’d spent the past three months holding on to every small moment with Jennie, every laugh, every glance. I’d told myself it wasn’t a big deal, that I could handle it.

But now I had to watch as those moments became his. As Jennie’s laughter and smiles belonged to him instead.

The worst part was that I couldn’t even be angry. V hadn’t done anything wrong. Neither had Jennie.

It was my fault—for feeling something I was never supposed to feel.

---

Over the next few weeks, everything seemed to shift. I still saw Jennie often, but now V was always part of the picture. He’d pick her up from campus, sometimes joining us for coffee. I’d smile and laugh, pretending nothing was different, but the ache in my chest only grew stronger.

Jennie seemed happy. That much was obvious. And part of me was happy for her—really, I was. But another part of me couldn’t help but feel jealous, no matter how hard I tried to bury it.

It wasn’t just that Jennie was dating my brother. It was that I’d never stood a chance to begin with.

---

One Friday afternoon, Jennie and I found ourselves walking to the library together. The sun was warm, and the conversation was easy, but I couldn’t shake the strange tension that had been building between us.

“You’ve been quiet lately,” Jennie said suddenly, glancing at me as we walked. “Is everything okay?”

“Yeah, of course,” I replied automatically.

Jennie stopped walking, turning to face me. “Lisa. Come on.”

Her voice was soft, but there was an edge to it—a kind of concern that made it harder to keep lying.

I hesitated, looking anywhere but at her. “I don’t know what you mean.”

Jennie sighed, stepping closer. “I feel like… I’m losing you,” she said quietly. “You’ve been distant, and I don’t know why.”

I swallowed hard, the words I wanted to say sitting heavy on my tongue.

Because you’re with him.

Because I can’t stand watching you be happy with someone else.

Because I—

But I didn’t say any of those things. Instead, I forced a small smile. “You’re not losing me, Jennie. I promise.”

She didn’t look convinced, but after a moment, she let it go. “Okay,” she said softly. “But if something’s wrong… you’ll tell me, right?”

“Yeah,” I said, even though I knew it was another lie.

As we continued walking, Jennie fell into step beside me, her arm brushing against mine. It should’ve been comforting—something familiar—but instead, all I felt was the ache in my chest, growing heavier with every step.

I didn’t know how much longer I could pretend.