Requiem of A Broken Heart

"Come on, just one more time," came a low, commanding whisper, the words dripping with urgency.

Drained and slick with sweat, Rachel Marsh felt her body being lifted once again. The movements were quick, driven by a pressing need. Despite the rush of the moment, she managed to gather herself, lifting her head just enough to speak. "What if we stop using protection?" she said quietly, her voice soft yet earnest. "I've been thinking... I want to have a baby."

Brian White, her fiancé, froze for a split second, his expression unreadable. But the hesitation was fleeting. He leaned in, his lips brushing her ear, and replied in a cold, detached tone, "Having a child complicates everything. I'm not ready for that."

Rachel bit her lip, her eyes glistening with unshed tears. "But we're getting married soon," she said, her voice trembling with emotion. "Your parents have been talking about wanting grandchildren. You can't really say it's impossible, can you?"

A family with Brian was what Rachel had always dreamed of, but his cold, unyielding demeanor made her feel small and insignificant.

She swallowed her emotions, nodding slowly. "Alright. We'll talk about it later."

Brian's expression softened slightly as if the tension between them was easing. But before he could speak, his phone rang, abruptly cutting through the fragile moment.

A soft, hesitant voice came through the speaker as soon as Brian answered. "Brian, I'm so sorry to bother you so late... I tripped in the living room and hurt my foot. If you're busy, I'll just..."

It was Tracy Haynes, Brian's first love. Before she could finish, Brian interrupted, his voice firm but gentle. "Hold on, I'll be there in a minute."

"Oh... I didn't mean to interrupt you and Rachel. If this is a bad time, I can just take a taxi," Tracy replied.

"No interruption," Brian reassured her, his voice soft and steady. "Don't worry about it."

Rachel, overhearing the exchange, couldn't suppress the bitter laugh that bubbled up inside her.

In the dimly lit bathroom, steam hung thick. Both were soaked, their bodies close, and the intimacy between them was undeniable. Everything was in place, and the mood was perfectly set.

But as Rachel stood there, she realized something that struck her like a cold truth. Being favored was a privilege she would never know. It was about exceptions, about bending every rule for one person, and that person would never be her. Brian's attention, care, and love were all given to someone else, to the woman he'd always cherished, the one who would forever hold a piece of his heart. The irony of it all felt suffocating.

Soon, Brian wrapped a large towel around Rachel, its soft fabric enveloping her slender frame. His hands were gentle, almost tender, as he dried her off.

"I'll carry you to the bed," he said, his voice unusually soft. "You should rest."

But his words felt like a bucket of cold water, dousing the warmth that had lingered between them. Rachel's heart sank. Was he leaving to see Tracy again?

Rachel's hands clenched tightly, her body stiff with tension.

After a long moment, something inside her snapped. She stepped forward with desperation, her mind barely catching up to her actions.

Without thinking, she hugged Brian tightly, her voice soft but trembling. "Stay with me tonight... Please don't go."

Brian was taken aback, his body momentarily stiffening in surprise. But the hesitation lasted only a second. He quickly regained his composure and gently stroked her hair, his voice calm but firm. "Don't be willful, Rachel. She's injured. It's not something I can ignore."

"But I need you too," Rachel pleaded, her eyes red and glistening with unshed tears. She bit her lip so hard it drew blood. "Just this once, stay with me."

Brian sighed, his voice softening but still resolute. "You've always been understanding. Don't make this difficult."

But tonight, Rachel didn't want to be understanding. She just wanted him to stay.

"Brian," she whispered, her grip tightening as she looked up at him, desperation etched across her face.

Brian shook his head, his voice turning colder. "Listen, Rachel, you need to let go."

Rachel shook her head, her heart pounding, unwilling to give in.

"I said, let go!" Brian's expression hardened in an instant, his lips pressing into a thin line. With a firm grip, he pried her fingers open, one by one, his strength enough to make her wince in pain.

Rachel's heart clenched in her chest, but she couldn't hold on any longer. She let out a soft, bitter laugh, almost mocking her vulnerability. Slowly, she released her grip, her fingers trembling from the strain, and finally, the weight of her defeat settled in.

"I'll be back soon," Brian said, his tone clipped, as he turned and walked away without a second glance.

Be back soon? Those words felt empty, like something you'd say to comfort a child. Tracy had called him countless times before, and he'd always gone to her. He never came back soon.

As Rachel stood there, the truth settled over her like a heavy blanket. Brian didn't want her to have his child, likely because of Tracy. After all, she was the one who had always held the key to his heart, the one he cherished deeply, the woman he couldn't let go of, the one whose memory would never fade. She was his first love, the kind of love that never really ended. So, of course, he treated her like a treasure, even if it meant ignoring Rachel's needs and desires.

After a long, numbing moment, Rachel turned and walked to the bathroom. She stepped under the shower, letting the water wash over her, though it did little to cleanse the heaviness in her chest. When she finally crawled into bed, the sheets felt cold and unwelcoming. No matter how she tossed and turned, the bed refused to warm up. It was as if the emptiness beside her had seeped into the very fabric of the room, leaving her alone in the chilling silence.

At six in the morning, Rachel was jolted awake by the ringing of her phone. Groggily, she picked it up and saw the name of Debby White, Brian's mother, flashing on the screen.

"The wedding date has been set." Debby's voice was as cold and clinical as ever. "Three months from now, it's a good day for a wedding."

Rachel knew Debby wasn't calling to consult; she was calling to inform.

"I'm calling to remind you to get your parents ready," Debby continued, her tone clipped. "Although my family is wealthy, we're not fools. Don't think you can just earn a fortune from this marriage."

Rachel tried to keep her voice steady. "Okay, I'll let my dad know. Don't worry, I won't ask for a penny from you."

But Debby was far from satisfied. A mocking laugh echoed on the other end of the line. "Indeed, you're not worthy of a penny."

Rachel held back her frustration, listening without offering an explanation. She knew better than anyone that even if she asked for money, it would end up in the hands of her indifferent father and cruel stepmother, people who never truly cared for her.

"I really don't know what Brian sees in you," Debby added before hanging up, her frustration boiling over. "You're poor, low-class, and utterly unremarkable. If it hadn't been for Brian's insistence and his grandma's approval, I would never have agreed to this marriage."

Rachel stared at the phone, her hands shaking slightly. A bitter smile curled at her lips, tinged with sadness. Her engagement to Brian felt like a dream, one she could hardly believe was real. Yet, marrying him was the greatest wish of her life.

When Rachel was fifteen years old, her stepmother had taken her to what she claimed was a gathering of high society. But it was all a ruse; they ended up at the White family estate. There, Rachel was pushed into the swimming pool, her stepmother's cruel setup leaving her flailing in the cold, suffocating water.

Rachel had been certain she would drown. But just as despair began to take hold, a young man leapt into the pool without hesitation. He pulled her close, his strong arms carrying her to safety, saving her from the icy grip of death. When she finally opened her eyes, all she saw was his retreating figure, disappearing into the distance. The sleek black watch on his wrist was the only thing that remained in her mind.

Years later, that same watch led Rachel to him. Brian White, the man who had saved her life, unknowingly became the man who captured her heart. In gratitude for the life he had given her, she gave him her heart without reservation, hoping she would marry him one day.

The sound of footsteps downstairs pulled Rachel from her thoughts. A moment later, the bedroom door creaked open. Brian stood there, his eyes heavy with exhaustion, his suit wrinkled and disheveled.

As Rachel watched Brian enter, her heart sank with the weight of her realization. It was clear where he had spent the night, taking care of Tracy again. He had promised to return soon, yet here he was, his clothes rumpled and his demeanor far too familiar.

Rachel turned her gaze away, unwilling to look at him. But Brian, seemingly oblivious to her unease, pulled her into his arms with a firm hand. His cold lips brushed against hers, and his deep voice softened as he asked, "Are you angry?"

Rachel remained silent, her face turned away. She couldn't ignore the faint scent of another woman's perfume clinging to him or the bright, unmistakable lipstick mark on his shirt. The mark, undoubtedly Tracy's, felt like a needle piercing her heart.

"Do you still love Tracy?" Rachel's voice was soft but steady as she finally looked at Brian, her eyes searching for the truth.

Brian pulled her closer, his embrace tight. "What are you thinking?" he murmured, his voice low and reassuring. "Tracy is special to me, but it's just friendship, nothing more."

Rachel didn't respond to Brian's reassurance. She simply gazed at him, her heart heavy with unanswered questions. Slowly, her voice breaking the silence, she asked, "What about me, Brian? Do you love me?"