Lia stood in the living room, arranging some fresh flowers in a vase. The house was calm, too calm—like the silence that lingers right before a storm. She didn't know it yet, but that storm was already on its way.
The front door opened.
She heard footsteps, then Ryan's voice echo through the hallway.
"Lia!"
She walked out from the kitchen, wiping her hands with a dish towel, casual and unaware. But the moment she saw Ryan standing at the door, hand in hand with Elina, something inside her sank.
Then came the words—simple, sharp, and final.
"Elina and I got married."
Her eyes widened slightly. Just for a second. A flicker of shock. A pause of disbelief.
But then... a smile.
Soft. Graceful. Painfully controlled.
"Oh… congratulations."
Elina looked visibly nervous. Her eyes darted down. She could barely meet Lia's gaze.
"I... I don't know what to say. I'm so sorry, Lia. I didn't mean for things to be like this."
Lia stepped forward, placing her hand gently on Elina's.
"It's okay. You don't need to explain anything. Welcome home."
Her voice was sweet, welcoming—almost too kind to be real. Elina stared at her in disbelief, unsure whether to feel comforted or more guilty.
But Ryan said nothing. He didn't thank her. He didn't apologize. He just walked past her with Elina, as if the past few months had meant nothing.
Lia stood still, her smile still on her face. Only when they disappeared down the hallway did her shoulders drop.
She returned to the kitchen, placed the dish towel on the counter, and leaned against the sink.
She took a deep breath,
then another.
Her eyes welled up.
But no tears fell. Not now.
Because strong girls like her…
they don't cry in front of others. They break alone. Quietly.