Part One. Matthew's story

Introduction

This is the first of three short stories about a friendship and unrequited love. Rather than using first person narration, I have chosen the voice of an omniscient narrator to try to offer a more detached perspective. I hope you enjoy it.

MATTHEW'S STORY.

Unable to sleep, Matthew lay on his back, staring at the ceiling of his dimly lit bedroom. The soft orange glow of the streetlight outside filtered in between the slats of the half-closed blinds, casting faint, criss-crossed shadows on the walls. Beside him, Rachel stirred, turning toward him with a contented sigh. Her fingers grazed his arm, and he could feel her smile even without looking.

"I love you," she whispered, her voice soft and sincere. 

Matthew's stomach tightened. He closed his eyes, exhaling slowly, trying to push away the guilt that threatened to rise inside him. This wasn't the first time she had said those words. Each time she said them, it stung a little more, a reminder of a boundary he would not cross.

"I like you very much," he replied, his voice gentle but firm.

He turned his head to look at her. Her eyes were wide and earnest, searching his for something he couldn't give. He felt a pang of something - guilt, pity, maybe even regret. But not love. He knew that much.

Rachel seemed to accept his response, nestling closer to him, resting her head on his shoulder.  Matthew let her, feeling the warmth of her body against his. He liked Rachel. He liked the comfort of her presence, the ease of their friendship, the uncomplicated nature of their arrangement — or at least, how it had been at the start.

He remembered the first night they had spent together. It had been after a few too many drinks, a warm balmy night of laughter and shared stories that had turned into something more. At the time, it felt natural, effortless, even fun. He'd been clear with her from the beginning: he wasn't looking for anything serious. He loved his life as it was and he had no intention of changing. Rachel had agreed, saying she was fine with just being friends who sometimes slept together.

But as the months went by, things began to change. Slowly, almost imperceptibly at first, but now it was impossible to ignore. To tell the truth, part of him felt betrayed by her declaration - this was not part of their agreement. It had also brought back memories of a relationship that had ended badly. He had loved before, deeply, recklessly, and it had left him scarred. Since then, he'd been careful, keeping his emotions at arm's length, avoiding anything that might hurt him again. With Rachel, it had seemed safe. But now he realised there was no such thing.

He knew that he should end it. He should tell her they couldn't continue like this. It wasn't fair to her. She deserved someone who could love her back, someone who would be able to say those words without hesitation. But every time he thought about having that conversation, the words caught in his throat. He didn't want to hurt her. He didn't want to lose their friendship, the comfort of her company, even if it was becoming increasingly complicated.

Rachel shifted beside him, her hand tracing small circles on his chest. "You okay?" she asked softly.

"Yeah," he lied, turning his head to kiss her forehead. "I'm fine."

But he wasn't fine. Not really. He was stuck in a place between what he wanted and what he couldn't have, between caring for someone but not loving them. Every day, it seemed that, for her at least, the line grew blurrier.

Matthew knew that he couldn't keep going like this. The weight of Rachel's love was becoming too much, and the guilt was gnawing at him. For the first time that evening, she had asked the question "What is 'this'; where are we going?" He had just looked at her. He couldn't find words to speak that would not hurt her and couldn't bear to speak those that would. So he'd stayed silent. Now he couldn't sleep, he kept replaying the evening in his mind and he knew his silence had stung.  

Matthew slipped out of bed. He needed some space, a moment to think. He padded softly to the kitchen and poured himself a glass of water. As he stared through the window at the dark, empty street, his mind was racing, going over  the same thoughts he'd been having for months. He knew what he had to do, but saying the words out loud was different from thinking them.

He took a sip of water, feeling the cool liquid slide down his throat, and made a decision. It was time to be honest, to tell Rachel the truth, even if it hurt. She deserved that much. He couldn't keep letting her believe there was a future between them when he knew there wasn't.

Returning to the bedroom, Matthew stood at the door and watched her sleep for a moment, her face peaceful and relaxed. He hated that he was about to take that peace away from her, but he knew it was the right thing to do. He sat down on the edge of the bed, gently shaking her shoulder.

"Rachel," he whispered.

She stirred, blinking up at him with sleepy eyes. "Hmm? What's wrong?" she murmured.

"We need to talk," He said, his voice low but firm.

Rachel's eyes widened, and she sat up, the grogginess leaving her face. She looked at him with concern, sensing the seriousness in his tone. "Okay," she said softly, "what's going on?"

Matthew took a deep breath, trying to steady his nerves. "I care about you, Rachel. I really do. But I can't give you what you want. I can't give you a relationship, or love, or a future together. I've been trying to ignore it, hoping that somehow it would work itself out, but it won't. And it's not fair to you."

Rachel stared at him, her face a mix of confusion and hurt. "Matthew, I—"

"No," he interrupted gently, shaking his head. "I need to be honest with you. You've been amazing, and I love having you in my life, but not in the way you want me to. I don't want to keep hurting you by letting you think this is something more than it is. You deserve someone who can love you the way you want to be loved, and I can't be that person."

A silence fell between them, heavy and thick. Rachel's eyes filled with tears, and she looked away, biting her lip to keep from crying. Matthew reached out to touch her hand, but she pulled away, shaking her head.

"I get it," she said, her voice shaky. "I just... I hoped maybe you'd change your mind. That maybe you'd see how much I care about you and..." She trailed off, wiping her eyes. "But I understand. I do."

Matthew's heart ached as he watched her struggle to keep it together. He wanted to hold her, to comfort her, but he knew that would only make things worse. Instead, he just nodded, giving her the space she needed.

"I'm sorry," he said softly. "I never wanted to hurt you."

Rachel nodded, taking a deep breath. "I know. And I appreciate you being honest with me. I guess I just... I need some time to process this."

"Of course," he said. "Take all the time you need."

She nodded again, looking down at her hands. "I think I should go," she said quietly, her voice barely above a whisper.

Matthew wanted to protest, to tell her she didn't have to leave, but he knew it was probably for the best. She needed space, and so did he. He nodded, standing up and offering her a small, sad smile. "I'll give you a lift home," he said.

Rachel shook her head. "No, it's okay. I'll call an Uber, it wont take long to get here." 

She stood up, grabbed her crumpled clothes from the floor and quickly dressed. He turned away, his heart heavy with regret and sadness.

A few minutes later, she was gone, leaving Matthew alone in his empty apartment. He stared at the door for a long time, the silence pressing in around him. He knew he had done the right thing, but it didn't make it any easier. He had lost a friend tonight, someone he cared about deeply. And even though he knew it was for the best, it still hurt.

He walked back to the bedroom, huddled beneath the duvet and, seeking an escape from the silence, he activated his speaker and sought solace in the familiar sounds of his favourite playlist.