You sat on the café bench, your long hair flowing freely, a black leather jacket clinging to your slim body. Ripped jeans at the knees emphasized your tomboyish style, yet there was still a sensual aura you could never hide. Your cup of coffee had gone cold, but your eyes never left the figure across the table.

Anneliese.

She sat there, her blonde hair tied half-up, her pink lips smiling brightly as always. Pink dominated her look, from the soft sweater she wore to the phone case in her hand. Cheerful, friendly, always the center of attention. And now, in her eyes, there was a different sparkle—the kind that appeared whenever she mentioned her boyfriend’s name.

“You know? Erik bought me flowers yesterday. Pink roses, my favorite!” she said with a light laugh.

You only smiled faintly, holding your breath so your voice wouldn’t tremble. “That’s good. He really knows how to make you happy.”

Anneliese leaned forward, her eyes sparkling. “Yeah! I never thought I’d meet a guy as good as him.”

And at that moment, your chest felt crushed. You wanted to say: It should be me making you happy. It should be me holding you, not him. But those words never came out. You only bit your lip, hiding the feelings you could never show.

Anneliese looked at you for a long while. “Hey, why do you look gloomy lately? Is there something you’re hiding from me?”

You quickly shook your head, then sipped your now bland coffee. “No. I’m fine. Just… tired.”

She sighed, then reached out and took your hand without hesitation. That warm touch nearly broke you. “You know, I’ll always be here for you, right?” she said softly.

You wanted to reply: I know, and that’s what makes it even harder to forget you. But your lips only curved into a faint, bitter smile.

That night you walked home together. Anneliese busily talked about her plans with her boyfriend, while you only listened. Every word about Erik pierced you, but you endured it.

In front of her house, she stopped and looked at you. That smile again—the one that made your heart pound wildly. “Thank you for walking me home. You really are the best friend I’ve ever had.”

The word friend stabbed deeper than anything else. You nodded slightly. “Yeah. Friend.”

Anneliese stepped closer and hugged you tightly. The sweet scent of her perfume mixed with the chaotic beat of your heart. You returned the hug, even though inside you were crying.

When she released the hug, her eyes lingered on you briefly, as if with hesitation. But quickly she smiled again, then waved before going inside.

You stood there for a long time in front of the closed door. Inside your chest, the unspoken feelings burned. Maybe it was true she only loved men, maybe it was true you never had a chance.

But you still loved her—in silence, in pain, with all of yourself.