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~ RICHIE’S POV

The most unspoken part of love is the undeniable feeling you get when they move on but you don’t. That feeling that makes you feel like a victim, even when you’re not. I know I’m not the victim and I know I’m not the one whose heart was betrayed but I just can’t help but feel completely broken.

My heart gets hurt every single day and it only gets worse when I think about how and why Rachel moved on. It’s not like I want her to keep hurting…. no, I don’t want that but at the same time I don’t want her to let go of me. I want every moment, every memory, and every single emotion we shared to stay in her heart just like it is in mine.

I feel my eyes fills up with tears as I read every single word of Rachel's letter. "I love you so much, Rach," my heart whispers along with my mouth.

Just like every day, I read her letter and it makes my heart swell up with hope- the hope that makes me smile thinking that Rachel is going to come back to me and we will be together forever. I don’t know what the future holds for me but I know that if it has no Rachel in it then It wouldn’t have me as well.

It's been two years since Rachel and I went our separate ways. Every day feels like a tsunami of emotions and anger. Whenever I think about it, I can't help but feel furious at myself. If only I had known who Ezra really was and hadn't blindly trusted Papa, maybe things would have been different. I could have been with Rachel, living a peaceful life without the constant anxiety.

Lost in my thoughts, I hear the door open. I turn around and see Laura standing there. Laura is Elsa's girlfriend, and I met them both at a bar when I was really sober and lost. That day, they helped and I moved in with them, I never wanted to move in with them but given I needed a hideout, i agreed to be stay with them for a while. I have to admit, moving in with Elsa and Laura was a huge relief for me. I'd been longing to leave my house, not only because it reminds me of Rachel, but also to escape the painful life I was living. I left the Mafia world two years ago and ever since I did that, I felt more at ease. The Mafia world really condemned me, it has caused so much pain to me and most importantly it caused me, Rachel.

Laura eagerly asks "Hey, you wanna watch a movie with us?"

"No, I’m busy," I respond

"Come on, it will be fun."

I am about to speak when Laura races me to it saying "Don’t make me start with the begging."

Sighing I give in and say "I will be out in a minute."

She gives me a thumbs-up before heading out and closing the door behind me. I go back to reading the letter, and even though I know all the words, it feels different every time. Each word breaks my heart and makes it pounder. I can't imagine how Rachel feels about me now. She probably hates me, but I don't blame her. It’s my fault—I broke the heart that once loved me.

I finish reading the letter, and as I fold it, I give it a little kiss before carefully storing it in my cupboard. I had a close call once, almost losing it, and I definitely don't want that to happen again. Losing it would feel like losing my only hope of getting Rachel back.

Leaving the room, I make my way into the living room. Elsa spots me and taps the empty spot next to her. I take a seat and face the television, where an old American movie is playing.

"This is what we're watching?" I ask, not that I really care, but I find the movie a bit too old to be interesting.

"Yeah, it's interesting," Elsa replies.

Laura chimes in, handing us each a bottle of beer, "Really?" she asks.

"Alright, maybe it's not that interesting, but I have to watch it. I'm working on a history project," she explains. "And it's important for me to watch it."

"Well, in that case, you can watch it later," Laura says as she takes the remote and changes the channel.

I take a sip of the beer and carefully place it on the table. The puzzle cube catches my eye, so I reach over and grab it, settling back into the cozy couch. My focus shifts to solving the intricate puzzle, blocking out the playful banter between Laura and Elsa about the movie. It's amusing how their little arguments always seem to lead to them making out.

My attention is diverted when Alfie, Laura's ten-year-old son from her previous relationship, enters the room with a notebook in his hands. "Aunt Elsa," Alfie calls out, approaching her with a hopeful look. "I need your help."

"Is it for your assignment?" Elsa asks, her voice filled with warmth.

"Yeah," Alfie replies, nodding. "My teacher wants us to write a story for valentines, it’s about love, but I'm not sure what it really means."

Elsa smiles and leans closer to Alfie, her eyes sparkling with understanding. "Love is when you care about someone deeply and put their happiness before your own. It's like how you love your mom and want to see her happy."

I let out a small chuckle at her statement "That is not love." I say looking at the puzzle in my hand. Lost in my thoughts I continue speaking "Love is when your heart burns for someone yet you feel no pain. It is when you are constantly hurting yet you feel the sweetest bliss. Love is when you don't give up on someone whether it takes two years or more. Love is what Rachel and I shared." I whisper the last part.

"Richie," Laura calls my name softly, placing her hand on my shoulder to reassure me.

"Alfie, you should go write your story in your room, okay?" Elsa says, and Alfie gives her a nod before walking out of the room.

While he's out, she comes over and sits next to me. "Richie, are you okay?" she asks softly, concern evident in her voice.

I let out a sigh, feeling tired of hearing and answering that question. "I'm just... I don't know," I reply, struggling to find the right words.

Not wanting to burden them with my emotions, I say, "I gotta go." I start to stand up, ready to retreat to my room, but Elsa interrupts me with her words. "You know, Richie, you can't keep avoiding this forever. Eventually, you'll have to talk about it."

I shake my head, feeling the weight of my unspoken pain. I can't bring myself to talk about Rachel with anyone. It's hard to explain what I'm feeling, especially when I look like the victim but I’m not one.

Laura reaches out, her voice filled with genuine concern. "Richie, please, talk to us. We want to help you through this."

A mix of frustration and sadness washes over me as I respond, "I appreciate that, but I don't think anyone can truly understand." Without saying another word, I swiftly make my way to my room. It's difficult to put into words the extent of the damage in my heart, but what's even harder is explaining why it hurts so much.