Undying Love: Maria the Orphan

I didn't realize when I fell asleep last night after the shock I received from Jack. I woke up feeling unwell, my head pounding, ready to explode from the overwhelming tension caused by the news I'd heard. I descended the stairs sluggishly and entered the kitchen, asking my aunt for headache medicine and a glass of orange juice, as I felt utterly drained.

She was preparing breakfast. I greeted her, saying:

"Good morning, Auntie. Could you please give me some headache medicine and orange juice?"

She responded kindly: "Snow White, you look so exhausted. I think you should skip work today and take some rest, my dear."

Reassuring her, I replied: "That's what I'll do, Auntie. I'll ask Livia to inform my manager about my illness."

She advised me: "Try not to think about anyone else. Your health is more important than anything. No one is worth sacrificing yourself for."

Feeling dejected, I answered: "You're right, Auntie. We're living in an era where materialism has overshadowed emotions."

I sat at the table, sipping my juice. Moments later, my mother joined us. She noticed I wasn't well, hugged me, and told me that Alfredo would be coming tomorrow and would inform us about that strange man, Jack.

Deep down, I hoped Jack wasn't involved in any of it—that someone else was to blame and that his absence was due to circumstances beyond his control. My heart still whispered to me that he loved me, that his feelings were sincere, and that he hadn't lied. While lost in these thoughts, I heard my mother say:

"Snow White, there's no need for you to go to work in this condition."

I reassured her: "Of course, Mom. I've already decided to let Livia know about my absence. I'll try to rest and regain my energy."

She was pleased with my decision and said: "Finally, we'll have a day together. I've missed this. Only Alfredo is missing, but he'll be with us tomorrow."

I reminded her of my father, saying: "Don't forget about Dad, Mom. I always miss him, even in his absence. His image never leaves me. I wish he were here; so many things would have been resolved and wouldn't have been so hard for me."

She responded: "That's death, my dear. It spares no one. We too will pass away and join those who left before us. So don't be sad. Take care of yourself and live your life. You might find someone who will give you the warmth of a father's love and become everything to you."

I felt pain and disappointment as I looked at myself, realizing I had become a stranger to who I once was. I was no longer the same. Circumstances forced upon me had to be endured to please everyone else. Emotions no longer had a place in our time. The important thing was to keep the ship afloat, even if it sailed against our current. As for your own desires, they were cast into oblivion.

I called Livia and asked her to inform the manager about my sick leave. She assured me she would handle everything and complete the required files on my behalf. Livia, my loyal friend, was a true blessing in my life. I hoped our bond would last and that time wouldn't surprise me with another blow.

That day, I had lunch with my mother and Sophie. We tried to create a warm and cheerful atmosphere, but every now and then, I would drift into the depths of my thoughts. My mother asked me to play her favorite melody. I didn't hesitate—she knew it comforted me and helped me forget my worries.

My father had left me this melody to play whenever life became too heavy for me to bear. It brought clarity to my soul.

That evening, I poured my heart into the melody of life's pain, soothing my wounded and lost spirit. My tears flowed as I played, providing the answers words could not.

I excused myself and went to my room to be alone with my weary thoughts. My mother and Sophie wished me a good night. After taking a bath, as I was drying my hair, I heard my phone ring. I jumped, hoping it was Jack.

It wasn't. It was my friend Livia calling. I answered:

"Yes, dear Livia. How are you? I hope work wasn't too exhausting for you today?"

She replied: "Don't worry, I've handled all the files. I just wanted to let you know that I won't be visiting tonight. I'm feeling a bit drained."

I told her: "That's okay. Rest up; we'll meet tomorrow. You have responsibilities to your parents as well. I'm so lucky to have such an amazing sister in my life."

She urged me to take care of my health, saying: "Take care, my dear. Don't overthink things. I need you to return to being your cheerful self."

I reassured her: "I will, don't worry. And don't forget, Alfredo's coming tomorrow. I'm sure you'll be thrilled."

She responded joyfully: "That makes me so happy! Tomorrow will be a special day. Alfredo is dear to my heart. Goodnight, Snow White."

I said goodbye: "Goodnight, my dear friend."

I picked up a book and sat on the balcony to read, trying to do anything to distract myself and return to who I once was. I no longer desired much from life—I'd had my fill. Was what I sought impossible? I just wanted Maria to return to how she used to be. I feared she'd carry painful memories forever, memories that would bring her nothing but sorrow and anguish.

Tomorrow, my brother would return. I didn't know what news he'd bring. His return wasn't planned; it came as a necessity. Alfredo rarely visited us, and when he did, it was often a surprise to find him at our doorstep.

I hoped to hear something different from him—something that would undo what I'd learned.