A Mysterious Message

That night, Monica was in her room resting after a long and exhausting day at work. She held her mobile phone, trying to call her fiancé Sam, but all her attempts failed as he wasn't answering. She threw the phone onto the bed in frustration and exhaled sharply.

"Where are you, Sam? Why aren't you answering my calls?" She said in a voice filled with despair and sadness.

Her favorite TV show was playing on the television, but for the first time, she paid no attention to it. She leaned back against the headboard and closed her eyes briefly, trying to ignore the uneasiness growing inside her chest.

With every unanswered call and every text that went unreplied, she felt the distance between them growing little by little, until it became impossible to pretend everything was still the same. The thought that there might be another woman occasionally crept into her mind, but she always forced herself to dismiss it. Sam was her childhood friend, and she trusted him more than anyone. She glanced once more at the phone lying beside her, hoping it would suddenly light up with his name, but the screen remained dark.

She picked up her phone again after a few minutes and stared at his contact picture for a long moment. Her thumb hovered over the call button, hesitant this time, as if she already feared disappointment even before realizing he wouldn’t answer this time as well.

She sighed, placed the phone back beside her and looked toward the ceiling, trying to convince herself that she was simply overthinking everything.

After one hour...

Her mother, Silvia, knocked on the door.

"Come in," she replied.

The door opened slowly. "May I come in, my dear?" her mother asked.

She smiled warmly. "Of course, Mom. Do you even need to ask?"

Silvia looked at her softly. "Why are you still awake? It's getting late."

"There is some work I need to finish," She lied.

Silvia stepped closer, sat down on the bed beside her, and then placed her hand on her face."You look upset. You can tell me anything that’s bothering you, my dear."

She sighed. "I tried calling Sam over and over again, but he didn't answer."

"Maybe he just didn't hear the phone." Silvia tried to reassure her, even though she was also upset about it.

She shook her head slightly. "I don't know— Sometimes I feel like he doesn't love me, and that I rushed into this engagement."

Silvia immediately responded. "What are you saying? He loves you very much."

Her voice dropped with sadness. "Mom, this is not the kind of love I've always dreamed of. I always wanted someone who loves me deeply and adored me. Someone who would make me the most important person in his life. I dreamed of a love that feels like fantasy."

"And you already have that kind of fantasy love," Silvia said. "So what rush are you talking about? You've known Sam for more than fifteen years. He is your childhood friend, and his family has been close to ours for a long time."

She paused for a second, making sure her words sank in. "Your relationship is not the result of one year, or two, or even ten. It is the result of fifteen years of love. Do you understand what that number means, Monica?"

Her mother’s words lingered in her mind for a moment, but Monica lowered her gaze, her expression tightening with little frustration.

"Then tell me, Mom, why don't I feel his love for me?" she said. "Why does he go weeks without seeing me, or even calling me?" Finally, she spoke, her voice filled with emotion.

She swallowed, trying to hold herself together. "I always dreamed of being loved with adoration and affection." she continued.

"Like Uncle Samuel's love for you. He truly adored you." she added with a smile.

Silvia's expression softened with distant memories, as if she had been pulled years back into a time she still carried in her heart. Her eyes filled with tears. "May God rest his soul... I miss him so much. Why did he leave me?"

Monica immediately hugged her and patted her back gently. "Don't be sad. He is in a better place now."

"I will always be grateful to him. He raised me like his own daughter and never treated me differently from Marco and Maria. He gave me love and care from the moment we first met, and became the father I never had. But unfortunately, he passed away like him. I am always unlucky." she continued, struggling to hold back tears.

As she spoke, old memories passed through her mind—childhood dinners, warm laughter filling the house, and the feeling of safety she used to have whenever Samuel was near.

Silvia shook her head. "Don't say that. We are all here for you and we love you."

She hugged Silvia tighter. "And I love you all so much."

"Monica," She said carefully, "you are not seeing the full picture. Sam has been under a lot of pressure lately with his work and responsibilities; it hasn't been easy for him."

Monica looked away, her expression tinged with doubt. "But pressure shouldn't make someone disappear or ignore the people who love him," she replied sharply.

Silvia let out a hopeless sigh. "Sometimes people handle things differently. That doesn't mean he doesn't care or ignore."

Monica got up from the bed and walked slowly toward the window, wrapping her arms around herself as she stared at the city lights. Rain had started falling faintly outside, small drops sliding gradually down the glass. “I just... don't feel it, Mom,” she said, her eyes fixed on the raindrops. “If someone truly loves you, you don't have to question it like this.”

Silvia watched her sad expression while she was still sitting on the bed. Sadness also appeared on her own face, but she quickly hid it so as not to put doubt in her mind again.

Suddenly, Monica's phone lit up on the bed, and both of them turned toward it at the same time. She hesitated, then walked over and picked it up. Her expression changed instantly as soon as she saw what was on the screen, and she froze in place.