Chapter 269: The Secret She Kept In Her Heart 2

Did he treat her well because of her Grandma Sharon?

Even if it was for the sake of her Grandma, it did not matter.

Then she recalled, the afternoon, they walked along the beach, when she almost confessed to him.

...

"Do you remember when you used to pick me up from college?"

"Of course."

"You nearly killed me with that bicycle."

Richard looked at her.

"You were the one who kept leaning to one side."

"I was trying not to fall."

"You were making me lose my balance."

Kristal laughed.

"Then why did you keep picking me up?"

Richard was quiet for a moment.

"Because you were always carrying too many books."

Her smile faltered for the briefest moment.

Her heart gave a small, traitorous flutter.

She quickly looked toward the sea.

"That’s all?"

"That’s all."

Don’t you like me a bit? Kristal asked silently.

"You’re boring." She said aloud.

"So you’ve told me."

She smiled.

Back then, she was perfectly content with those little moments.

Or at least, she convinced herself she was.

There were other things she did without ever admitting why.

She would bake pastries and leave them at his door.

I made too many, she would say casually.

She would design a shirt and give it to him.

I made it too small for my brother, so you can have it.

Sometimes, she would spend hours choosing the right fabric or thinking about what color would suit him.

Then she would act as though the gift meant absolutely nothing.

Richard accepted everything without question.

He never seemed to suspect that each little gesture carried a feeling she was too afraid to name.

Kristal’s lips curved as she remembered another afternoon by the sea.

"You’re staring again."

She nearly tripped over a small mound of sand.

"I wasn’t."

Richard looked at her.

"You were."

"I was looking at the ocean."

"The ocean is over there."

He pointed toward the water.

Kristal followed his finger—and immediately realized that she had, in fact, been staring directly at him.

She cleared her throat.

"Maybe the ocean moved."

Richard’s lips twitched.

"Of course."

"There. You laughed."

"I didn’t."

"You did. I saw it."

"Your imagination is very active."

"It has to be. Someone has to keep this friendship interesting."

Richard shook his head, but the faint smile remained.

He rarely laughed.

And whenever she managed to coax even the smallest smile out of him, she felt an absurd little sense of victory.

Those were the moments when she began to realize that something had changed.

Somewhere between the bicycle rides home, the long walks by the sea, the pastries she pretended were accidental, and the clothes she secretly designed with him in mind...

Richard had become more than a friend.

She just hadn’t been brave enough to admit it.

...

Back in the car, Kristal blinked.

The memory slowly faded, leaving only the sound of the tires against the highway.

She glanced at Richard again.

He was still driving, completely unaware of the storm of memories passing through her mind.

"Kristal."

She jumped slightly.

"Hmm?"

"Why are you smiling?"

She quickly composed herself.

"Nothing."

Richard glanced at her briefly before returning his eyes to the road.

"You’re remembering something."

"Maybe."

"What?"

Kristal looked at him.

For one reckless second, she almost told him.

I used to bake those pastries because I liked you.

I designed those clothes because I wanted you to wear something made by me.

I used to wait for you outside school because I wanted to ride home with you.

The words hovered dangerously close to her lips.

But she swallowed them. Instead, she smiled.

"Just remembering how annoying you were."

Richard raised an eyebrow.

"I was annoying?"

"Very."

"And yet you kept following me around."

Her heart skipped.

She turned toward the window to hide her expression.

"Someone had to make sure you didn’t get into trouble."

A quiet laugh escaped him.

"I think that was supposed to be my job."

"Well, you weren’t very good at it."

Richard shook his head.

Kristal smiled at the window.

Some feelings were easier to carry as memories.

Especially when the person sitting beside you had no idea that he had been the reason for them all.

...

When they arrived at the orphanage, the children were already waiting in the front yard.

The moment Richard’s car came into view, several of them rushed toward the driveway, their faces lighting up with excitement.

A few carried small bouquets of wildflowers they had gathered themselves, the stems tied together with pieces of ribbon.

The youngest was a charming five-year-old girl in a pink dress. She stepped forward shyly and held out her bouquet to Grandma Sharon with both hands.

"These are for you, Grandma Sharon."

Sharon’s face immediately softened.

"Oh, sweetheart." She bent down and accepted the flowers. "They’re beautiful."

The little girl beamed.

Another child, an eight-year-old girl, approached next. She initially headed toward Richard, but hesitated when she reached him. Her eyes darted toward Kristal before she shyly extended the bouquet in her hands.

"For the beautiful lady."

Kristal’s heart warmed.

"Thank you, sweetheart."

She crouched down to accept the flowers, giving the girl a gentle smile.

Then she noticed the third child.

A little boy stood a few steps away from them. He had two missing front teeth, making his solemn expression look even more endearing.

But unlike the others, he wasn’t carrying flowers.

He stood directly in front of Richard, his eyes fixed on the car.

Waiting.

Richard followed his gaze.

For a moment, he said nothing.

Then he understood.

The boy looked up at him expectantly.

"Uncle Richard..." His voice was small. "Where’s Auntie Isobel?"

Richard’s expression changed slightly.

"Aunt Isobel has some personal matters to attend to," he explained gently. "She couldn’t make it today."

The boy’s face fell.

It happened so quickly that he couldn’t hide it.

Neither could the other children.

Their excitement dimmed almost instantly, and a few exchanged disappointed glances.

Children were like that.

They hadn’t yet learned how to hide their feelings behind polite smiles or pretend not to care. Whatever they felt showed plainly on their faces.

Sharon noticed.

So did Kristal.

The little boy lowered his head, scuffing the toe of his shoe against the ground.

"But..." he murmured.

Then he looked up at Richard again.

"Auntie Isobel said she would sing for us at today’s birthday party."

His voice carried a quiet sadness.

"She promised."

For a moment, no one spoke.

Kristal looked at the children surrounding them.

It was obvious now.

They hadn’t simply been waiting for their visitors.

They had been waiting for Isobel.