A love left unspoken by halleys clinic

-by Dr. AK Rana A Love Left Unspoken – Standing outside the bridal boutique, I watched through the glass as my childhood friend selected her wedding dress. A thousand thoughts swirled in my mind, replaying the years we had spent together. Who says only parents get sentimental at their daughter’s wedding? Because here I was, feeling the same lump in my throat.

But beyond nostalgia, I was worried—worried about how this man would treat my little girl. Of course, she wasn’t little, nor was she fragile. But she couldn’t fight back if someone hurt that tender heart of hers. She wouldn’t even cry in front of others; she never did. But I always knew when she was about to. Could the people she was about to call family see the unshed tears behind those bright, brave eyes?

She could cook, but she didn’t like doing it every day. She made food only when she felt like it, only what she liked. What if her husband expected her to cook daily, without offering a hand to help? We used to experiment in the kitchen together, making terrible dishes and laughing until our stomachs hurt. Would she still get to do that, or would she be stuck in the routine of someone else’s expectations?

I sighed, taking a sip of the tea, a street vendor handed me. The taste was bitter, or maybe it was just me. As I paced from one shop to another, I stole a glance inside. And then, she stepped out of the dressing room.

My heart clenched.

It was the same feeling I had two years ago—the same weight in my chest—when she had gone on her first blind date, arranged by her mother’s friend. She had been nervous but excited, dressed in a baby-pink top, her face glowing in a way I hadn’t seen before. When she climbed onto my bike, I forgot how to start it. That ten-minute ride stretched into two agonizing hours—punctures, engine failures, every mechanical disaster imaginable. Or maybe it was just my heart refusing to take her there.

She had smiled at me back then, the same way she was smiling now.

“Aren’t you coming inside?” she asked that day, as we reached the restaurant.

I hesitated. “Would bringing ‘a friend’ on a blind date be okay?”

She turned, her dark brown eyes searching mine. A moment of silence, then a whisper: “Of course, ‘a friend’ can’t come with me.”

And then she walked away, leaving behind a smile—a fake one, I knew; she couldn’t fool me. I had spent a lifetime reading every flicker of her expressions.

You might think I was an idiot for not catching on sooner. But I did. I just wasn’t ready to accept what her eyes were telling me. Watching her walk into that restaurant had felt like a goodbye. And every step she took forward had pushed me miles behind.

A week later, I left town for a job in a foreign city. Neither of us spoke about it, yet we both made our silent decisions, abiding by an unspoken rule—one neither of us had set, but both had followed.

Two years passed. She met suitors, considered proposals, and then finally chose one. The wedding invitation arrived a week ago. And today, I was here, dragged along by her mother to keep her company while she picked out her wedding attire.

Meeting her again felt strange—like greeting a stranger you once knew by heart. It was awkward, suffocating, warm, and painfully nostalgic all at once. She was slipping away, and I was still standing outside, watching from a distance.

Why is it that the most precious things make us the most anxious? That the fear of losing them outweighs the joy of having them?

I had already lost her once. Did I really need to worry about losing her again? I thought.

After her marriage, I wouldn’t be able to hold her close. I wouldn’t be able to spend hours watching her laugh. She would belong to someone else, and I—what would I be?

She wins, I lose.

She fights, I yield.

She chose, I wondered.

It had always been this way.

In friendship, you fight. You push back, you refuse to settle, you demand fairness. But love?

Love teaches you how to lose.

Because losing to her never felt like a loss. It was watching her win and calling it my victory. It was letting her walk ahead, not because I couldn’t keep up, but because I wanted to see her happy—wherever she chose to be.

And now, for the first time, I resented that choice.

Lost in my thoughts, I hadn’t noticed that she and her mother had finished shopping. As they moved to the next store, I silently took the heavy shopping bags from her hands before she could notice because , if she had, she would have refused—I knew her well enough to know that.

love left unspoken by Halleys clinic

Her mother stopped to chat with an old colleague near the fountain in the mall. I sat beside her, the cascading water reflecting the lights above. The place had changed in two years; it was still under construction when I left.

“It’s pretty, isn’t it?” she said, watching the fountain.

“Pretty, yes,” I replied, looking at her.

Silence settled between us. So many words begged to be spoken, yet none found their way out.

I wanted to reach for her hand, pull her close, tell her to stay. But did I still have that right? I wondered.

Her mother called her name. She stood up.

That was it. My last chance.

I knew , If I let her go that day, I would lose her forever.

She turned back, and for the first time that day, her eyes met mine. She saw my face—red, miserable, desperate.

And then, in a voice barely above a whisper, she asked, “Should I go?”

I didn’t even think.

“No. Don’t go, please. I love you.”

The words tumbled out, raw and unfiltered. My vision blurred as tears spilled down my cheeks.

She sat down again, looking at me—really looking at me.

“You’re an idiot,” she said, but this time, she smiled. And it wasn’t just an expression. It was real.

It felt like a mountain had been lifted off my chest. For the first time in years, I could breathe. I just had to say it out, it was this moment that took so long to come.

I would beg her mother for forgiveness if I had to. But there was no way in hell I was ever letting go of her hand again.

A Love left unspoken

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also read Frozen Goodbye – It wasn’t a new beginning. It was a long-delayed goodbye.

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