The letters kept arriving, one by one, as if I had left pieces of my soul scattered across the room. I picked up the second envelope, my hands trembling. The paper felt heavier this time, like it carried the weight of something unsaid.
"To the one I hurt most," the letter began. "I never meant to break your heart, yet here I am, writing because I couldn't say it aloud. I wanted to protect you… but perhaps that was my biggest mistake."
I sat on the edge of my bed, reading each line as though the words themselves could explain everything. And then I saw it—a name I didn't expect. Someone I thought I knew, someone I had trusted, someone now revealed as part of my own life's hidden truth.
The room felt colder. My pulse raced. How could I not have known? How could the person I loved, the person I trusted, carry this secret so quietly?
A soft knock on my door made me jump. No one should be here. No one could know I was reading these letters.
I froze.
"I told you the truth once. Did you listen?"
The voice was faint, almost a whisper. But it was real. And I knew, with a sinking feeling in my chest, that the secrets in these letters were only the beginning.