The dream felt too real.
I could feel someone touching me, whispering softly.
"Laranie, my love."
That voice—I knew it instantly. My eyes fluttered open, and there he was—Jeremy—standing right in front of me. Without thinking, I threw my arms around him, holding him as tightly as I could, afraid that if I let go, he'd disappear.
He kissed me gently, and when I looked into his crystal-brown eyes, I felt myself drowning in them.
"Jeremy," I whispered, voice trembling, "I'm sorry."
"For what?" he asked, his tone calm but unreadable.
"For hurting you."
He smiled faintly, but it didn't reach his eyes. "No matter what, I'll always be by your side."
"I love you, Jeremy."
"I don't love you anymore," he said.
My world froze. His face hardened—anger and disappointment shadowed his features.
"You broke my heart."
"I never meant to."
"But you did," he said, turning away.
"Please, Jeremy," I begged, tears slipping down my cheeks. "Please forgive me."
"I'm breaking up with you."
"Jeremy, no! Please don't go—"
"It's too late for that now."
He walked away, closing the door behind him. The sound echoed like thunder in my chest. My knees gave way, and I fell to the floor, sobbing as the tears poured endlessly down my face.
Then, suddenly, everything faded. I woke up—my pillow soaked with tears. My breath came fast and shallow.
It was just a nightmare.
I turned to the clock on my nightstand.
6:10 p.m.
"Shit!" I gasped, throwing off my covers. He was supposed to leave at six. I was already ten minutes late!
I rushed to my closet, throwing on sweatpants, a bulky black shirt, and red sneakers. Without a second thought, I sprinted downstairs.
Mom and Dad were in the living room, having dinner.
"Laranie, are you okay?" Dad asked, startled.
"Jeremy's leaving! It's 6:10—I have to go!"
Mom smiled softly, placing her hand over her heart. "Then go get your best friend—and your boyfriend—back."
"I love you, Mom. I love you, Dad! Thank you!"
I dashed out the door and ran across the street to Jeremy's house, my heart pounding. I knocked hard, breathless and desperate. His sister opened the door, her face stiff with irritation.
"What are you doing here?" she snapped.
"Is Jeremy home?" I asked quickly.
"Why should I tell you?"
"Please…" I begged, tears already streaming down my face. "I just need to make things right."
Something in my voice must have reached her, because her expression softened.
"He left about ten minutes ago," she said quietly.
"Oh… thank you."
Without another word, I turned and sprinted back to my car.
The drive to London International Airport felt endless, though I took the shortcut that sliced through the city. My fingers gripped the steering wheel, trembling. By the time I reached the airport, it was raining lightly, as if the sky itself was crying with me.
I rushed through the doors, ignoring the looks from strangers. After a quick security check, I spotted him—Jeremy—just stepping out of the restroom, his suitcase in hand.
"Jeremy!" I called. "Jeremy, wait!"
He turned, his expression blank. Then, seeing me, he looked away and began walking faster.
"Jeremy, please!" I cried, running after him.
He stopped, shoulders stiff, and turned to face me. His jaw was tight, his eyes burning with anger. I caught up to him, gasping for breath.
"Jeremy, I'm sorry," I said between sobs.
"Laranie, enough," he said coldly. "I don't want to hear it."
"I know what I did was wrong," I said, tears flowing freely. "But I choose you, Jeremy. I always have."
He gave a short, bitter laugh. "Save it. You said yes to Louis without even telling me you were with him."
"I was going to break up with him—"
"Then why didn't you?"
"I didn't get the chance!"
"I read your diary, Laranie," he interrupted sharply. "You praised him—his body, his voice, how perfect he was."
"But you didn't read all of it," I pleaded. "You didn't see where I wrote that I love you—that I was choosing you."
He hesitated for a second, then shook his head. "When were you planning to break up with him?"
"Tomorrow," I whispered.
"Tomorrow?" His voice cracked with disbelief. "You haven't even done it yet. And you expect me to believe you?"
"Please, Jeremy—"
He stepped back. "You lied to me. And the worst part? You cheated on me."
My heart shattered. "I'm sorry. Please forgive me. Let's start over."
His voice dropped low and heavy. "I don't want to be with you anymore."
"Jeremy, what are you saying?"
"I'm breaking up with you."
He turned away, picking up his bags and walking toward the gate. I couldn't move—I could only watch him go.
The announcement echoed through the terminal: Flight 016 to France now boarding.
Jeremy didn't look back.
I ran to the window, pressing my palm against the glass as the plane began to move. My vision blurred with tears. The engines roared, and within moments, the plane lifted off—taking him a million miles away from me.
The world outside was dark, rain falling harder now. I wiped my tears, forcing myself to walk back to my car. The storm raged, thunder rolling across the sky as if mocking my pain.
I drove home in silence, the wipers barely keeping up with the downpour. For a moment, I wanted to give up—just stop the car and cry forever—but then I thought of Mom, Dad, and my brothers. I couldn't leave them because of heartbreak.
When I finally reached home, I parked the car and stepped out, soaked to the bone. Inside, I found my parents laughing together on the sofa, watching a movie. Their laughter hurt more than I expected—it reminded me of the joy I'd just lost.
Tears welled up again, and I ran upstairs to my room, ignoring Mom's calls.
"Laranie! Laranie!"
I slammed the door shut and collapsed onto the floor, back pressed against it. My sobs came fast and hard.
A gentle knock followed. "Laranie, dear, can we talk?" Mom's voice was soft, almost pleading.
"Go away," I choked out.
"Please, honey. Let me in."
After a moment, I stood, wiped my face, and unlocked the door. The moment she stepped in, I fell into her arms, crying like a child.
"It's going to be alright," she whispered, rubbing my back.
"Mom, I can't—"
"Yes, you can. You're stronger than you think."
"Mom, why am I cursed?"
She cupped my face, her eyes kind and steady. "You're not cursed, sweetheart. You're a blessing—to me, to your dad, to your brothers."
"But not to Jeremy," I said quietly.
"He loves you, Laranie. But right now, he's hurt. Sometimes love needs time to heal."
She led me to my bed, wrapping me in a towel to warm me up. "Tell me everything."
I told her everything—how I went to his house, met his sister, then rushed to the airport and begged him to stay, how he refused and walked away. When I finished, I broke down again.
Mom held me close, and Dad appeared at the door, his eyes filled with concern.
"Life doesn't always give us what we want," he said gently. "If you make mistakes, learn from them. And never force love—it comes naturally."
I hugged them both tightly. "Thank you. I love you."
Mom smiled. "Now take a warm bath, change, and come down for dinner, okay?"
"Okay," I whispered.
In the shower, I let the hot water wash over me, but the tears kept coming. Every drop reminded me of Jeremy—his smile, his laugh, his goodbye.
When I was done, I dressed in grey sweatpants and a black shirt, then joined my family downstairs. Mom had cooked my favorite—Chinese rice, chicken, and greens—trying to cheer me up.
But the food tasted like nothing. I poked at it, pretending to eat while Dad tried to make jokes that I barely heard.
"Laranie, are you okay?" Mom asked.
"Yeah… I'm fine," I lied.
After dinner, I went back to my room. This time, I didn't lock the door. I climbed into bed, staring at the ceiling.
At first, the tears came again. But soon, the sadness turned to anger. I grabbed my pillow, punching it over and over until exhaustion took over.
Finally, I lay still, eyes burning, mind spinning.
And then, like a cruel twist of fate, my thoughts drifted to Louis.
I still had him.
And for a fleeting moment, I smiled—unaware that the worst was yet to come.