After getting back together with Xavier, I discovered he had a second X account. On this account, he followed only one person—Becca.

On Becca’s X account, she had documented everything about her and Xavier over the past three years, though she had hidden specific details about them.

The most recent post from Becca was updated a week ago: “His old-love is back. I, as a mere replacement should give up. I’ll walk away.”

The account showed that on the day Becca posted this, Xavier’s secondary account had logged in and out hundreds of times. I closed the X page, feeling a painful swelling in my heart. What was Xavier thinking with each login and logout, repeatedly viewing Becca’s post? Was he thinking about the ten years we spent together, or the last three years he spent with Becca?

Half a month after my return, we attended an alumni gathering where Becca was also present. As soon as Xavier spotted her, his entire demeanor shifted. Becca’s eyes were swollen, her nose red and puffy. When a concerned classmate asked her what was wrong, Becca cast a furtive glance at Xavier and, with a shaky voice, replied, “It’s nothing. It’s just my birthday today and I’ve been waiting for someone who never showed up.”

Suddenly, the clatter of a dropped utensil against a plate shattered the silence in the room. A sharp pain shot through my chest, like a multitude of fine needles piercing my heart. I looked at Xavier, seeking an explanation.

Xavier turned his head towards me and whispered softly in my ear. “I didn't know anything. I told that there’s nothing between us anymore. You’re the only one I love, Silvia.”

To everyone in room, Xavier’s explanation seemed like a public display of affection. The strong love that remain between us.

“Yeah, we all know that, man,” a guy teased, his tone light but edged with sincerity. He turned to me and added, “Silvia, you know Xavier was practically losing his mind after you left. He was a mess. I wouldn’t have been surprised if he’d ended up in a mental institution. Thank goodness you’re back.”

“Yeah,” a woman chimed in. “Who hasn’t heard about the infamous couple from campus? You two would probably have kids by now if you hadn’t disappeared into thin air.” That woman was Carmen.

As I listened to the laughter and jokes around the table, I noticed Becca’s face growing increasingly pale. She downed one glass of wine after another, as if trying to drown her discomfort. Xavier held my hand, smiling at everyone, but his occasional glances towards Becca were full of pity.

It had been five years since our graduation and the evening was filled with nostalgia as we indulged in college-era games: beer pong, cards and a lively round of Truth or Dare.

When it was Xavier’s turn, he drew the Truth card and was asked, “Xavier, have you ever loved anyone else besides Silvia in your life?”

Xavier and I were known as a couple that everyone in our campus recognized. The room fell silent and all eyes turned to Xavier, including mine. His answer held the weight of a decision that might determine whether I should reveal my current condition to him and entrust him with the most important person in my life.

Xavier paused, his gaze dropping as he considered his response. Though it was only a second or two, it felt like an eternity to me. He finally looked up and said, “Of course not. Silvia is the only woman I’ve ever loved and I’ve vowed long ago to marry her.”

Everyone burst into laughter. Amidst the laughter, Becca’s face turned ashen.

It was my turn to draw Truth in the next round. Following the usual rules, the master game, Rex asked me, “Silvia, is Xavier the most important person in your life?”

The crowd cheered again, “Seriously, Rex? What kind of question is that? You’re asking the obvious, adding one point to them.” 

Despite the light-hearted reactions, everyone’s attention was on me. Xavier, too, looked at me with a mix of nervousness and hope. The three years we had spent apart had left us both uncertain about our place in each other’s hearts. Were we still the most important people in each other's lives, or had time and distance changed that? 

As Rex’s question hung in the air, a profound image surfaced in my mind—a face that bore a striking resemblance to Xavier’s but belonged to a little boy. This child’s face, though similar, was marked by an innocence and vulnerability that was distinctly different from Xavier's. It was an evocative reminder of the past and present intertwining in my life.

My parents had passed away when I was still very young, leaving a void that seemed insurmountable. Growing up without their guiding presence, I had found solace in Xavier, who entered my life during junior high. For many years, he had been my anchor, my confidant and my closest companion, filling the gap left by my parents. He was, without a doubt, the most significant person in the first half of my life.

But now, as I faced the reality of my dwindling time, the boy’s face reminded me of someone even more precious—someone who had become the center of my world. This child, who was the embodiment of my love and hope, was my greatest treasure. Despite the devastating news from the doctor, who had given me only three months left to live, my love for this child was boundless and unwavering.

Looking into Xavier’s hopeful eyes, I saw not just the man who had been my rock but also the man who had to share the remaining moments of my life with this boy. I knew the significance of my answer extended beyond the mere words. With a deep breath, I nodded and replied, “Of course.”

The crowd’s response was immediate and vibrant; cheers and laughter erupted around us, filling the room with a celebratory energy. Xavier let out a sigh of relief, his shoulders relaxing as his smile broadened, conveying both gratitude and comfort.

In the final round, the bottle pointed to Becca. Before the question could even be asked, Becca swiftly declared, “I’ll go with Dare.”

The dare was to hug someone of the opposite sex sitting next to you. As soon as the dare was announced, Xavier’s expression darkened.

“That’s not appropriate; let’s change it,” he said, his voice tinged with frustration.

“What’s inappropriate about it?” Becca shot a quick glance at Xavier before promptly hugging a male classmate seated beside her.

Amid the cheers, Xavier’s face turned completely black.

After the gathering ended and we returned home, Xavier sat in the living room, staring blankly at his phone.

Curious, I picked up his phone and went to Becca’s X. As expected, she had just posted a minute ago, accompanied by a photo of herself hugging her knees and crying.

[Left out again. Waiting all day for my birthday isn’t worth comparing to the alumni party with his first love.]

The post was filled with grievance, brokenness, but also immense resentment. Watching Xavier stare at his phone for a long time, I felt as if my heart had been punctured by a huge hole. Throughout the time, calls kept coming in, but Xavier ignored them all.

Xavier was distracted all night and as it neared midnight, he couldn't stay put any longer. Finally, he broke the silence.

“Something’s come up at the company. It’s urgent and they need me. Go to sleep. Don’t wait up for me.”

 I gazed at Xavier, the man I had loved for ten years. Even now, my feelings had not wavered. Love, I realized, is like a heartbeat—constant and enduring until it stops.

“Xavier, did you forget what day today is?” I asked softly.

The calendar in the living room clearly displayed the date: May 20th. Ten years ago today, Xavier had confessed his love to me and we had officially become a couple. Every year since then had been our anniversary—except for the three years I had been away.

Xavier’s face fell as he remembered. A look of guilt flashed across his eyes as he reached out to touch my face. “Silvia, I—”

Just then, the phone rang again, snapping Xavier back to reality. “I’ve got to go,” he said abruptly. Without another word, he left. 

An hour later, a new update appeared on Becca’s X feed: [He’s back.]

The post included a photo of Becca wearing a birthday hat, her eyes closed in a wistful, childlike gesture as she made a wish over a small cake. The image was crafted to evoke a sense of innocence and longing. But what struck me most was the background detail—a hand with a distinctive brown mole on the thumb, a feature I recognized all too well.

Those short words shattered all my psychological defenses. I curled up on the sofa, hugging a pair of teddy bear, burying my head in them. These bears, which Xavier and I had bought together seven years ago, were now threadbare and faded, their once-vibrant colors dulled by time.

My mind drifted back to earlier days. I remembered Xavier standing before me, his ears flushed with a deep red, as he nervously yet earnestly declared, “Silvia, I like you. Will you be my girlfriend?” At twenty-two, he was brimming with youthful confidence and an eagerness to share his feelings with the world.

I also recalled the more solemn moment when he was twenty-six, his hands trembling slightly as he placed a ring on my finger. With a look of nervous anticipation, he asked, “Silvia, will you make me the happiest man alive by marrying me?”

It was the seventh New Year's Eve we had spent together. The countdown to midnight was filled with laughter and hope, but the New Year brought an unexpected and devastating blow. Shortly after the celebrations, I received a notification from the hospital that would change everything: I was in the final stage of cancer. To compound the shock, the report also revealed that I was two months pregnant.

As I sat in disbelief, a torrent of sweet memories from the past three years washed over me. The love we had shared, once so vibrant and full of promise, now seemed cruelly separated by fate’s merciless hand.

Suddenly, a sharp, agonizing pain gripped my body. It was accompanied by severe coughing fits that left me gasping for breath. I stumbled to the bathroom, doubled over the toilet as I coughed up large amounts of blood. The physical pain mirrored the emotional turmoil inside me and I doubted whether I could endure the three months that were left. Yet, despite the overwhelming sense of dread, there were still things I needed to address and resolve.

Just as I was sinking into despair, my phone rang, jolting me from my thoughts. It was Dr. Theron Watts, the specialist overseeing my treatment.

“Hi, I just wanna hear from you. Kaden and I are doing well here. How about you? do you feel any discomfort or new symptoms?” He started. “I also want to tell you that test results will be out soon. Once we have them, I’ll bring Kaden back to you.”

Theron had been following a research project abroad that specialized in my illness and the results would be out soon. As expected, I would be the first test subject. If the experiment succeeded, I could survive and offer hope to many others with the same condition. If it fails, it will provide valuable data for medical research. It would be benefited either way.

“I’m fine. I can last another two months,” I said, wiping the blood from my mouth.

“And how are things between you and him?” Theron’s tone shifted, becoming more serious.

I fell silent. I wanted to say things were bad—very bad—but I couldn’t bring myself to say it. After a moment of observing my silence, Theron spoke again.

“Silvia, just let me come get you. Whether the treatment succeeds or not, at least Kaden and I will stay with you.”

I sighed. “Theron, you’re already taking care of Kaden and that’s more than I could ask for. I don’t want to add to your burdens. I’ll make my way back once I’ve said my goodbyes to Xavier.”

If I had known that Becca was with Xavier, I might not have come back. It was useless to regret my decision now, but it wasn’t just about the ten years of feelings between Xavier and me. We also had a child I had kept from him. As they say, regret only comes after loss. Understanding my refusal, Theron fell silent. With no further response from the other end, I ended the call and eventually fell asleep.