Cortes, Andrea.

The moment Miss Dantes called my name, I instinctively turned my head to face her. Her tone was calm but firm, her eyes searching mine for any sign of understanding. I already knew what was coming. The same lecture, the same disappointment. How exhausting this morning had already been.

“It’s been weeks,” she said softly but with an unyielding weight in her voice. “And I still haven’t heard anything from your parents.”

I managed a faint smile, though inside, I felt tired — exhausted from the constant disappointment, the silent hope that maybe, just maybe, they’d show up. But they never did. They never made time for me. Not for my graduations, not for my milestones, not for any of this.

Our college graduation was just around the corner, and the administration needed to speak with them about my future. But still, no response, no call, no visit. It’s like I was invisible to them. Miss Dantes’ voice faded into the background as I sat there, her words drifting over me, but my mind wandered elsewhere. Why are my parents like that? Why do they always leave me hanging, waiting in vain?

Instead of drowning in these questions, I focused on the lecture at the front, on the words that were supposed to guide us into the next chapter of our lives. I was almost there—almost at the finish line: just a little more patience, a little more strength. I had to hold it together.

Before Miss Dantes could call my name again, I grabbed my bag hurriedly, trying to escape the classroom without drawing too much attention. I pulled Rachel by the arm and led her out, feeling the weight of her stare as I moved.

“Andrea,” she called after me, concern lacing her voice.

“Why?” I shot back, not bothering to hide my impatience. Rachel fell silent, understanding that I didn’t want to talk about it right now.

We headed straight to the school park, a quiet sanctuary amid the chaos of campus life. Maria was already waiting on the bench, her nose buried in a paperback, but she looked up as we approached.

“Have you been waiting long?” I asked, settling beside her and pulling out the lunch I packed—no cafeteria food anymore. Last time I bought something there, I ended up in the hospital with food poisoning. That was enough to make me swear off their food forever.

She shook her head. “Not that long. Anyway, did Miss Dantes talk to you already? She was asking about your parents earlier.”

Tsk. “Same story,” I muttered. “They won’t come. They don’t have the time or the interest.”

Rachel looked at me with sympathy, but her words were sharp. “She wouldn’t understand. Just the two of us, Maria and I, we know how your situation is. That’s why she keeps asking.”

I rolled my eyes. “Just keep quiet about it. She’ll get tired eventually, and she’ll stop asking.”

As we ate in silence, my phone suddenly vibrated in my pocket. I saw the caller ID — Calvin. My heart fluttered, but it was also a familiar storm brewing inside me.

“And the devil shall call,” Maria whispered, a smirk on her face.

I chuckled softly, knowing they both disliked Calvin intensely. Their disdain was mutual, and I often found myself caught in the middle, trying to protect their feelings and mine at the same time.

I answered, trying to sound casual. “Love? Why are you calling?”

“Where are you?” his voice was low, almost urgent.

“I’m in the school park,” I replied. “Do you need something?”

“Are your friends there?” he asked, his tone edged with annoyance.

“Yes,” I said cautiously.

He cursed under his breath, words I couldn’t quite catch but clearly filled with frustration. “Love, can you come over here?”

My knees felt weak at the way he said ‘love,’ like it was an incantation that rendered me powerless. I took a deep breath, steadying myself. “Where are you?” I asked again, waiting for his answer.

Without hesitation, I packed my things, ignoring the curious stares from Maria and Rachel. I knew what I was doing was reckless, but I couldn’t help myself.

When I arrived at his location, Calvin immediately pressed me against the cold brick wall of the school building. His lips crashed onto mine before I could even properly greet him. His hands were possessive—one on my waist, the other tugging at the back of my blouse.

“Wait,” I gasped between kisses, trying to pull away. “Someone might see us.”

But Calvin ignored me, lost in the moment. His lips and hands claimed me as his own, igniting a fire I couldn’t resist. I let him in, surrendering to the whirlwind of sensation, knowing deep down that I was giving away pieces of myself—my dignity, my safety, my peace.

What do I have to lose? Nothing. I had already surrendered my heart, my pride, my autonomy. I had handed him the power to destroy me if he wanted to. Yet, I loved him despite everything.

Even when our relationship was shrouded in secrecy and pain, I clung to the hope that one day, he’d be proud of us. That everyone would see us, truly see us, and know that what we had was real.

My leg instinctively wrapped around his waist as we pressed closer, our breathing ragged, our bodies craving each other. His hands found their way to my hips, his smirk sending shivers down my spine.

“You’re always ready for me,” he murmured with a wicked grin.

I blushed, feeling a strange mix of shame and desire. Why was I still shy? We had done this so many times, yet each time felt like the first. It was different—more intense—when he was inside me. I felt alive and vulnerable all at once.

He reached into his pocket, pulling out a foil wrapper, rolling it onto himself. With a swift motion, he hooked my leg around his waist, and in an instant, he was inside me again. The pain and pleasure blurred together.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” he muttered, thrusting hard and relentlessly. My nails dug into his scalp as I pressed my body closer, surrendering to the storm.

“I love you, love,” he whispered between thrusts, his voice raw and filled with emotion.

I couldn’t find the words to reply, lost in the overwhelming sensation. It was like drowning—each wave crashing over me, pulling me deeper into a sea of feelings I couldn’t control.

Suddenly, I saw the look on his face as he reached his peak, and I felt my own release wash over me. We collapsed onto each other, breaths ragged and bodies trembling.

“So, lunch?” he asked softly, as he cleaned me up with a napkin he pulled from his pocket.

We hurried to his car, both exhausted but content in our secret, forbidden world. We’d been together nearly three years, yet no one knew—except for my friends, who despised Calvin.

“Where do you want to eat?” he asked, voice still husky.

“I already ate,” I replied, tired but smiling weakly.

“But I made you tired,” he teased, catching my hand and bringing it to his lips, kissing it tenderly.

“Come on, love,” he coaxed. “Be a good girl and have lunch with me.”

Despite the pain, despite the secrecy, I couldn’t let go. Every moment with him was worth the risk, worth the heartbreak. I held on to the hope that someday, everything would change — that we’d be free to love openly.

“Alright,” I said softly. “But I have classes at 2:30. I need to be back at school.”

He nodded, leaning in to kiss my hand again. “I’ll make it up to you tomorrow,” he promised.

We drove to a quiet restaurant far from the chaos of school and city life. It was our little escape, a hidden oasis where just the two of us existed.

“Do you have plans tomorrow?” I asked him.

He hesitated, then shook his head. “I don’t know yet. Why?”

“It’s my birthday,” I said quietly.

His eyes widened in surprise. “Shit, I forgot. What do you want to do?”

“Just be with me,” I answered, my voice soft but full of longing. “That’s all I need.”

He smiled warmly. “I’ll make it special,” he promised.

We finished our meal and hurried back to school, hearts pounding with anticipation and anxiety. When I arrived, Miss Dantes immediately stopped me.

“Cortes,” she said, her voice gentle but firm. “I really need to talk to your parents. It’s been weeks, and I still haven’t received any response from them.”

Because I was in a good mood, I replied calmly. “Alright, Miss Dantes. I’ll contact them and give you an update tomorrow.” I headed back to my classroom, feeling a flicker of hope that maybe, just maybe, things would turn out okay.

Classes went by quickly. The second semester was almost over, and everything felt lighter—less pressure, fewer requirements. I rushed home to the townhouse my parents bought me, a small haven that I called my own. It wasn’t big, but it was enough.

I went to bed early, determined to look my best for tomorrow. I wanted everything to be perfect—my birthday, my day, my life.

Today wasn’t just my birthday; it was also our anniversary. I went back to the classroom, trying to listen to the discussions but feeling the minutes crawl by. I just wanted the day to pass faster, to get to him.

At 5:30 PM, I almost ran out of the classroom, eager to meet him in the school park. I texted Calvin, telling him I was already there. I looked at myself in a small mirror I kept in my bag, smiling softly.

But as the minutes stretched into hours, he didn’t show up. I checked the clock—7:30 already—and still, no sign of him. I called him, but his phone went straight to voicemail. My tears started to fall. I had endured so much—so much silence, so much pain—and all I wanted was for him to be here today.

It was my birthday. All I asked for was to be with him, just once. Just for today. And yet, he was missing. I felt the ache of loneliness and disappointment settle deep inside me. I wanted to understand how love was supposed to work when both of you were fighting for it—and it felt like I was losing my battle.