Sure, rain. I had grown accustomed to it — the unyielding deluge, the dense gray clouds looming overhead, and the sporadic rumble of thunder echoing around me. It didn’t bother me. It was merely rain. But this? This was different.

Witnessing Guest weep in the rain struck me profoundly, catching me off guard. It wasn't merely the rain drenching his clothes or the beads of water weighing down his hair. It was the intense emotions he was revealing.

On the day he revealed his feelings, it was as if time had come to a standstill, trapped in that excruciating instant. His declaration — those very words I had longed for, fantasized about, and dreaded — lingered in the atmosphere, dense and overwhelming. He loved me. He loved me.

The gravity of his confession enveloped me like a heavy cloak, constricting my chest and making it difficult to inhale. The honesty in his gaze and the openness in his tone struck me all at once, leaving me paralyzed. I wanted this. God, I wanted this so badly, but in that moment, fear gripped me.

In the end, I fled like a coward. I left him standing there. Vulnerable and exposed, with nothing but my silence the only response he received.