Between Two Shadows
1172 Words
Chapter 5: Between Two Shadows
Amara sat at her desk, the house dim and quiet, her fingers gripping the photo Trixie had shown her that morning. Rafael and Ysabel. They looked close—too close. Laughing like they didn’t have a care in the world, as if no one had been left in the middle of a tangled history.
She placed the photo down, face down, on the table. Her heart wasn’t just aching—it felt betrayed. But what right did she have? Rafael was never hers. And Ysabel had never said a word. Amara wanted to ask her, so many questions in her mind. Ysabel knew that she liked Rafael for years, and now she felt betrayed.
She picked up her pen and her notebook. Her eyes welled, but she blinked the tears away.
Dear Caleb,
I don’t know why I’m writing to you tonight. Maybe because you’re the only one who can’t lie to me. You just listen… and I need that.
There’s this photo. Rafael and my best friend. Together. I shouldn’t feel this way—but I do. I always thought I’d be the one to love quietly, from afar. And now, I’m the one being left behind. Again.
I don’t know what you’d say if you were awake. But if you ever wake up, I hope you’ll understand why I’m here…
She stopped writing. Closed the notebook. Folded over in her chair and let the sob escape.
On the other side... Jiro, Rafael's friend came by.
“Did you love her?” he asked.
Rafael blinked. “What?”
Jiro leaned against the railing of Rafael’s rooftop balcony, arms crossed. “Ysabel. Or was it just Amara you were running from?”
“I don’t know,” Rafael murmured, rubbing the back of his neck. “Maybe… maybe it wasn’t about either of them. Maybe I just didn’t know what I wanted.”
Jiro gave him a pointed look. “You ignored Amara for years. Then when she slipped away, you suddenly started noticing her.”
Rafael clenched his jaw. “It’s not like that.”
“It’s exactly like that.”
There was a long pause. Rafael sighed. “She looked so different at the funeral. Like all the light had gone out of her. And I just—”
“You felt bad.”
“No. I felt… regret.” Rafael’s voice softened. “And something else I can’t name.”
"I saw you with Ysabel, last weekend."
"We met often, and she confessed that she likes me too, but she can't be with me because of her best friend." Rafael looked down.
"What the..." Jiro was about to curse. He gave a long sighed.
"It was a mess. I should have been happy that Ysabel likes me back, but suddenly, it felt empty being with her."
"Man, you really made a mess. If Amara knew about this, she would also get mad at Ysabel. You didn't just break her heart, you would break their friendship." Jiro kept his phone to his pocket, ready to leave.
Jenny watched Amara arrive from the upstairs window. Her expression unreadable, her fingers tightly gripping the curtain’s edge.
“She’s back,” she said quietly.
In the hallway, Nurse Carla was adjusting a tray. “She said she’d come every weekend. She’s been consistent.”
Jenny raised a brow. “Consistency doesn’t mean sincerity.”
Carla turned to her with a small smile. “And suspicion doesn’t mean truth.”
Jenny didn’t reply. Instead, she watched Amara walk down the hall and disappear into Caleb’s room. She waited until the door clicked shut before slipping downstairs.
She walked past the room, heard Amara’s soft voice reading, and went straight into the study. Caleb’s old notebooks were still on the shelf. And there it was—a folded letter, peeking out from under one.
She picked it up. The handwriting was neat. Curved. Familiar.
She read it slowly.
When she finished, her fingers trembled.
“She’s good with words,” Jenny whispered. “Too good.”
Amara saw Elena in the living room and gave her a smile.
“You look tired today,” Elena said, handing Amara a cup of tea.
Amara smiled politely. “Long week. Work’s been heavy.”
Elena sat down beside her. “I’m glad you are still coming. Caleb always loved people who talked about books. He used to write short stories when he was younger.”
“Really?”
“Oh yes,” Elena chuckled. “Fantasy, mystery, even poetry. He’d read them to me before bed.”
Amara looked down at her tea. “That’s sweet. I never got to read my writing aloud to my mom. I wish I had.”
“You can read them to him,” Elena said. “I think he hears more than we know.”
Amara nodded, her throat tightening.
That evening, Amara sat once again beside Caleb. The letter in her hand wasn’t meant to be read aloud—but something inside her needed to say it.
“Caleb,” she began, “I left this behind last time. I wasn’t sure if you’d even feel it here. But now… I think you should hear it.”
She unfolded the paper.
Dear Caleb,
You don’t know me—not really. And I didn’t know you, either. But somehow, I started talking to you like you were my safe place. My quiet in the storm. Maybe because you can’t judge me. Or maybe because… I want to believe you’d listen if you could.
I’m scared. I don’t know if this promise I made makes any sense. I feel like I’m pretending. But then I look at you—and I don’t feel alone anymore.
That counts for something, doesn’t it?
She paused, her voice catching. She reached out, gently touching Caleb’s hand.
“I hope you don’t mind that I’m here,” she whispered. "Because… I think I’m starting to hope that you’ll wake up. I need someone to talk to, because It feels like I am about to lose my best friend”
Outside, Jenny stood by the door. She had the other letter in her hand, folded tightly.
She didn’t move. She just listened.
Her eyes were cold.
But her heart—she didn’t know what to do with that.
Back in the office, the next Monday felt like a long winter had settled inside Amara.
Trixie approached her during lunch break and quietly handed her her phone again.
“You need to see this.”
Amara frowned. “Another photo?”
Trixie nodded. “I didn’t want to say anything, but they’ve been meeting a lot lately.”
Amara looked down.
The screen showed another moment: Rafael leaning in to whisper something into Ysabel’s ear. Her face lit up.
They were so close.
She gave the phone back and smiled, faintly. “Thanks, Trixie.”
“You okay?”
“No,” Amara said softly. “But I will be.”
- Writer
