Chapter 2 The Weight Of Unspoken Love

• Noticing Diana's confusion, Richard's tone sharpened.
• "I'll ask you again," he said, "You mentioned before that once you're divorced, you'd go find the man in your heart. Who is he?"
• "Oh, him!" Diana’s expression remained distant as she answered lightly, clearly not fully present in the moment. "No need to pursue it anymore. He’s getting married again."
• "Again?" Richard’s face darkened with visible anger. "You’re telling me he was married before?"
• "Yes," Diana replied immediately, her eyes shutting as if to block out the weight of her words. "Back then, his family forced him into an arranged marriage. It fell apart within three years. Now, he’s reuniting with a former lover and plans to remarry."
• Her voice carried the ache of wounds not yet healed.
• Richard’s brow tightened faintly. "A man like that," he muttered, his tone edged with frustration, "isn’t worth the heartache. You should forget about him."
• There was a glimmer of regret on his otherwise resolute expression as he reached out, lightly brushing his hand against the top of her head. Slowly, he combed through her hair with an almost fatherly gentleness, as if hoping his touch could soothe the storm raging within her.
• But his mind spun uneasily. Who was this man that occupied such a central place in her thoughts? He mentally listed all the men who had crossed paths with them over the years, but none seemed to match.
• It couldn’t be me, could it? A sudden thought shot through Richard, causing his heart to pause mid-beat. His fingers twitched slightly, unintentionally pulling a few strands of Diana’s hair. Startled by the action, he let out a soft scoff at himself before retreating his hand and forcing out a bitter smile. No—it was impossible.
• After all, Diana once told him she had been fond of someone for eight years, but they had known each other for well over a decade. It didn’t add up.
• Touching her fallen strands of hair, Diana felt something heavy stir in her chest. Her eyes trembled imperceptibly as her thoughts churned.
• It is you. From my youth to adulthood, everything I’ve given—my time, my foolish dreams—was for you.
• From the moment she had arrived at the Miller household years ago, she’d fallen deeply for Richard. Her love took root quietly, hidden beneath layers of pride and practicality. She knew their connection was born from family obligation rather than choice, and yet... she couldn’t suppress what her heart wanted.
• So instead, she chose to love him in silence. To be near him—even if just at the edges of his life—was enough.
• When her grandfather arranged for her to marry Richard, it felt like an impossible dream come true. The pure joy she experienced was fleeting though; Richard’s cold indifference and clear lack of affection for her crushed any sparks before they could grow into flames.
• Still, moments came later when the walls between them softened, and their bond started to feel real. During those days, she felt happiness rare and precious. But as life often does, it threw her from those fleeting high points into depths of despair once more.
• "Get some rest." Richard’s voice drew her from her reverie. He stood up and straightened his posture, his face unreadable except for a hint of weariness in his eyes. "I need to head to work."
• Diana’s eyelids were already fluttering shut despite herself, exhaustion overtaking her frayed emotions. Richard sighed under his breath as he paused by the door, clenching his fists tightly as if grappling with unspoken frustration.
• He had never expected this woman to hold such unwavering devotion for another man—a man who had clearly caused her nothing but pain. Even after all this time... even after being abandoned... she still couldn’t let go of him.
• That thought stabbed at Richard’s heart like a thorn buried deep in his chest. A shadow of resentment flickered in his gaze before quickly disappearing.
• Enough, he told himself. There was no point in continuing like this. What reason did he have to protect Diana any longer? If all these years hadn’t been enough to win even a sliver of her deepest affection, perhaps it was time to let go. Her fortunes—or misfortunes—from here on had nothing to do with him anymore.
• As soon as Richard left, silence blanketed the room once again. But Diana’s thoughts churned with his parting words.
• Change? How could she change? How could anyone rip out feelings so deeply rooted through a decade of deeply entwined emotions, immovable as aged roots in barren soil. Change was out of the question.
• After Richard left, Diana opened her palms to reveal a sweat-soaked test report, its text blurred and illegible. She carefully unfolded the damp paper and stared at the words she could barely decipher. Silent tears rolled down her cheeks as she remembered the doctor’s advice: avoid sadness, rest more—it wasn’t good for the baby.
• Curled tightly on the couch, Diana slipped unknowingly into sleep, only to be startled awake by the sharp ring of her phone.
• "Hello," she answered, her voice muffled with a nasal timbre, soft and sweet as if laced with honey. It was a voice that could melt even the coldest heart.
• "Diana, were you sleeping?" Richard’s voice came through, low and tender, carrying a warmth that could disarm anyone.
• Diana instinctively straightened up. "I wasn’t feeling well, so I took a nap."
• "Don’t nap for too long," he gently reminded her. "You’ll have trouble sleeping tonight. And don’t forget to eat lunch. By the way, Scott will drop off your gift later."
• "A gift?" Diana was suddenly on full alert. For a moment, she frantically tried to recall what day it could be.
• "Yes," Richard explained smoothly. "It’s for our second wedding anniversary. We may not have officially gotten our marriage certificate, but nevertheless, you and I are still husband and wife. I’d never let you lose face in front of others."
• This... this was Richard Miller—a man who meted out both pain and fleeting sweetness in perfect balance. He was the kind of man to hurt you enough to scar and then offer a candy-coated balm for comfort. And somehow, despite the wounds, you’d find yourself cherishing his rare moments of kindness.
• That was how Diana Campbell had fallen for him.
• How good he was.
• But also, how cruel—because at the end of it all, he didn’t truly want her anymore.
• Stuck in her swirling thoughts, Diana failed to respond in time.
• Richard continued, "Oh, by the way, the original gift couldn’t be delivered due to some issues. Don’t worry about it; just visit the jewelry store in a few days and pick out anything you like."
• "Okay," Diana replied softly, though the words carried no real expression. The idea of exchanging anniversary gifts felt hollow—after all, they were heading for a divorce. As thoughtful as the gesture might appear on the surface, there was no denying it: their relationship was unraveling thread by thread.
• Diana flexed her arms absently before glancing at the untouched food sitting cold on the dining table. Her lips curled into a bitter smile just as the doorbell rang.
• When she opened the door, Richard's assistant, Scott Biker, stood outside, cradling an ornate box in his hands.
• "Here’s your anniversary gift, ma’am."
• The wooden box was intricately carved with delicate hollow designs that gave it an air of luxury and refinement.
• Diana accepted it listlessly, noting how much effort had likely gone into choosing even the design of the package itself. Yet all she could think of was how Richard always picked calculated gestures—grand enough to cover cracks but never intimate enough to feel genuine.
• She carefully lifted the lid, only to be greeted by an explosion of red: a bracelet adorned with pigeon blood rubies. The gemstones shimmered brilliantly under the light, radiating opulence with every subtle shift of perspective.
• But Diana couldn’t hide her disdain. She hated red jewelry—had always hated it—and Richard knew that. Still, he’d chosen this for her.
• She shook her head silently, unable to suppress her bitterness. The bracelet wasn’t a gift; it was an overpriced apology—a small token meant to smooth over his thoughtlessness after failing to secure the right piece.
• Memories flashed back to last month when they’d attended a dinner-turned-disaster-relief auction together. She had spotted a pair of jade earrings shaped like lovebirds along with a matching brooch.
• The cool green jade had captivated her: its soft translucence balanced perfectly between vibrant beauty and understated elegance. She’d admired it longer than she realized before Richard noticed her interest and casually suggested bidding for it on her behalf.
• "You like them?" he had asked back then, gearing up to buy them at any price—
• "No, Richard, it's too expensive." Diana glanced at the price tag and playfully stuck out her tongue.
• Richard couldn't help but smile at her expression. "Consider it an investment in your happiness. If it makes you uneasy, just give me a gift in return."
• Diana's mood shifted, but before she could protest further, Richard had already completed the purchase.
• Because the jewelry was valuable, it required registration and a short waiting period before it could be collected.
• Unexpectedly, when the jewelry arrived, it wasn’t the piece Diana had wanted.
• Though she felt a twinge of disappointment, she managed a polite response. "Thank you. I'll take care of it."
• Today... determined to express her gratitude, Diana prepared a heartfelt return gift: an elaborate meal featuring Richard's favorite sweet potatoes glazed with sugar.
• Currently busy in the kitchen, she called Scott. "Can you help me deliver this dish to President Miller?"
• As she packed the meal carefully, Scott hesitated, recalling something Richard had mentioned recently. "Mr. Miller has been feeling unwell lately. He told us not to bring him random dishes."
• Looking at the cold dish before him, Scott continued awkwardly. "Mr. Miller also said... that if his wife gives something like this, it’s fine if we eat it ourselves."
• Diana froze mid-motion, her hands trembling. Releasing her grip on the dish, she steadied herself against the table to avoid collapsing.
• Her chest tightened as if an invisible weight crushed her lungs. She glanced at the lovingly prepared meal—crafted with so much effort—only to feel an overwhelming sense of rejection.
• She had stewed the potatoes longer so that it would be soft and easy on Richard’s stomach. She had even used a minimal amount of sugar and opted for a low-fat variety to cater to his dietary needs. And yet, he didn’t take a single bite.
• He rejected not just the food—he rejected her.
• Out of frustration and pain, Diana grabbed a piece of the potato with her bare hands and shoved it into her mouth despite knowing full well she was allergic to it.
• The itch began almost immediately, and her hands turned red and swollen as she chewed. Yet she didn’t stop there. Every bite was like a desperate attempt to bridge the impossible gap between them.
• Tears streamed down her face as she whispered bitterly, "You won’t eat something I made just for you? Fine… Perhaps you’ll never understand."
• She rubbed her belly and spoke softly, "Baby… your father doesn’t want us, but don’t worry. Mommy loves you enough for both of us, and I’ll raise you alone if I have to."
• Just then, her phone rang.
• She quickly wiped her tears and composed herself before answering in a soothing tone.
• "Hello?"
• "I received your gift," Diana said casually over the line.
• "Did you like it?" Richard replied calmly. "It’s beautiful, isn’t it? Ruby is precious—I searched far and wide to find one that complements you. It suits your complexion perfectly." His smooth tone only deepened the ache in her chest.
• After a brief silence, Richard added flatly, "By the way, I won’t be home tonight."
• Before Diana could respond, a soft voice floated through from his end of the call.
• "Richard…" The woman’s tone was tender and saccharine. "Have you wrapped things up with her? Hurry up—I'm waiting..."
• The words hit Diana like shards of glass piercing her heart. Her voice caught in her throat as the call abruptly ended, leaving only silence and the echo of betrayal behind.