Love, Unrequited

When I was 19, I dated a rich kid.
I was idealistic back then, a firm believer that true love conquered all. I didn’t realize the four cruel words—class divide—could drown a person.
The year we graduated, we broke up amicably.
He went abroad to study finance; I went back to my village to manage greenhouses.
When we met again years later, it was an awkward reunion. To fill the silence, I desperately searched for things to talk about.
I asked him what our old classmates were doing now.
I asked him if the stray cat we adopted together was doing well.
But Liam just watched me silently. After a long moment, he spoke, his voice soft.
"What about me?"
"Aren't you going to ask if I was okay these past few years?"

1
The call from Jason came when I was standing on the dirt hill at the edge of my village. The other villagers were staring at the sky, their faces etched with worry. I was trying to reassure them, telling them this was the only rain forecasted for the week, that it wouldn't delay the watermelon harvest.
That's when my phone rang.
"Rebecca, are you still messing with those stupid greenhouses? We have a huge problem! Liam's back in the country!"
"Don't say I didn't warn you. He's been on a rampage ever since he landed, trying to find you. Bro, I can't hold him off any longer."
Hearing his name after so long, I froze.
"Why is he looking for me?"
Jason sounded exasperated. "What do you think? He's still hung up on you. Everyone knew he was crazy in love with you in college. Seriously, you were cold-blooded, breaking up with him like that. You nearly drove him insane."
"You're out here playing farmer with your damn watermelons, but Liam… he had a rough time overseas. Anyway, just watch out."
Liam. I breathed out his name.
Honestly, I didn't know what I was supposed to "watch out" for. His name had been the soundtrack to my four years of college and had haunted my dreams for three years after. I thought I would never forget him, that the memory would be etched into my soul forever.
But time, it turns out, really does wash everything away. Hearing his name now, I felt surprisingly calm.
"Tell him not to come. It's not convenient."
The village's dirt roads were a muddy mess from the rain. I was a wreck, covered in mud and holding a farming tool. I thought back to my time with Liam and politely declined.
"He'll have to take a train from the airport, then a bus, then another bus, and finally a motorcycle taxi."
"It's too much for him. He can't handle that kind of hardship."

2
I wasn't lying.
Liam was the long-awaited only child in his family. He grew up with a silver spoon in his mouth, pampered and doted on. Looks, family background, education, ability—he was a golden boy, top-tier in every way.
The only hardships Liam had ever faced were because of me.
I took him to a cheap, spicy noodle shop and landed him in the hospital with a high fever.
The scarf I knitted for him gave him a rash that lasted a month.
Liam told me it was okay, that the rash wasn't serious. But the next day, I found the scarf in the trash. I quietly retrieved it and buried it at the bottom of my suitcase.
At 10, I didn't understand what "low-quality chocolate" meant. I only knew it was a luxury I could only have on my birthday. Just like at 19, I couldn't tell the difference between a taxi and a Maybach. I didn't know that one pair of Liam's shoes cost more than my living expenses for an entire year.
I had never worn an evening gown and didn't know the first thing about social etiquette. So for every formal event at school, Liam would attend with his childhood friend, an elegant girl named Stella.
He always had a reason. "Rebecca, you're always busy with your part-time jobs. And you don't like these kinds of parties anyway. You wouldn't be comfortable."
The school's social media page was filled with photos of them, looking close. Among the countless comments, one stood out: "A perfect match. They actually belong in the same world."
So, the year we graduated, we broke up. He went abroad to study finance; I went back to my village to manage greenhouses. College blurred the lines, but graduation sent us back to our respective social classes.
That's why when Jason said he was still hung up on me, I didn't believe it. If anything, he was probably just bitter that I was the one who ended things. After all, a poor girl from a small town who got into a good school had dared to break up with the heir to a massive fortune.
Everyone had laughed at me back then. They said I was playing hard to get, that I was being manipulative. They laughed at my ignorance.

3
That night, the old college group chat was buzzing.
"Did you guys hear? Liam from the business school is back. He's probably the most successful one from our year, right? He already has several companies to his name."
"Can't be jealous of that. He was born with it. Even if he didn't start his own businesses, the family fortune is enough for him to live lavishly forever."
"He's handsome and successful. How can one person have it all? And Stella, I saw her movie poster today. She's gorgeous."
The conversation quickly centered on Liam and Stella. They had been the "it" couple in college, the campus king and queen. Even after graduation, they were still a hot topic.
Amidst the envy and admiration, someone typed: "Aren't they engaged already?"
The chat went silent for a second, then exploded.
"Don't spread rumors. Since when were they engaged? I haven't heard anything about them dating."
"Well, they are childhood friends, from similar backgrounds. A lot of people shipped them back then. There was even a fan group."
"Let's not guess. What if they're not engaged? That would be slander."
The person who started it seemed hesitant but then posted a photo. "It's not me saying it. Stella admitted it herself. Her family is arranging her engagement, a childhood betrothal. And people figured out that the picture she posted was taken at the Thorne family villa. Who else could it be but Liam?"
The photo seemed to convince some people, but others were still skeptical.
"If they had a childhood betrothal, why didn't they announce it before? And if they were engaged, why didn't they date in college?"
"Yeah, I remember Liam's girlfriend back then wasn't her. That girl was an idiot. If she had just held on to Liam, she'd be a rich man's wife by now."
"I heard she was the one who dumped him. Then he went abroad and had a really tough time, he was…"
The messages stopped abruptly as people realized who was in the chat.
I stared at the photo for a long time before closing the app.
I was the girl they were talking about. Liam and I dated for four years, from when I was 19 to 23. I was the girlfriend who was ignored, cropped out of photos. I was the gold-digging, manipulative, innocent-looking poor girl in his friends' eyes. I was the foolish, laughable ex-girlfriend in my classmates' eyes.
I put down my phone, not letting their words get to me. When I was younger, I was proud, and my pride was more important than my life. But now…
I looked up at the sky, just praying that the price for this year's harvest would be good. Love, and all that… none of it was as important as my watermelons.

4
My village is remote, the roads are bad, and transportation is a nightmare.
Every year, the buyers who come for our watermelons use that as leverage to drive the price down. This year, we had a bumper crop, and they were trying to lowball us with a price that was frankly insulting.
I was in the middle of a heated argument with a merchant over a few cents a pound when Jason’s call came through.
His voice was urgent. "Liam's really on his way to you. Be careful, don't—"
I didn't hear the rest of his sentence.
Because the man he was talking about was standing right in front of me.
I looked up and met a pair of silent, watching eyes. Liam was dressed in a black jacket and black leather shoes, his expression unreadable. He looked at me, and I looked at him. Neither of us spoke.
The loud voice of our village mayor boomed from the doorway. "Oh my goodness, I am so sorry! The road is slippery from the rain. I gave that boy on the motorcycle a real talking-to. I'll have him come apologize to you right away…"
Our village roads are narrow, and motorcycles often skid and fall. The mayor was insisting the driver compensate Liam for his jacket, but Liam just waved a hand, saying it wasn't necessary. I noticed the designer logo on the hem—a brand Liam often wore, with a price tag that would make you gasp. The kid on the motorcycle probably couldn't afford to replace it with a year's wages.
The mayor apologized again and again, then eagerly pulled me forward. "This is Mr. Thorne, a businessman from the city! He heard our watermelons are top quality and came all this way. If this works out, he wants to sign a long-term contract and make us his official supplier. Rebecca, you have to talk to Mr. Thorne, show him the best we have to offer."
I was the only person in the village with a college degree and the one who had spearheaded the greenhouse initiative. The mayor had always valued my opinion, and I was the designated liaison with outsiders. Getting a buyer to come all this way was a huge deal, especially one from the city. The mayor's face was flushed with excitement as he pushed me to be a good hostess.

5
I took Liam to the local clinic to get his scrapes treated. Then I arranged for him to stay in the nicest house in the village so he could shower and change.
The entire time, the silence between us was deafening. Jason's texts were making my phone vibrate nonstop, but I ignored them. I stared at the distant mountains, lost in thought. Liam said nothing.
By the afternoon, I finally broke the silence. "Shredded potatoes, scrambled eggs, and that stewed chicken the mayor brought over. Is that okay for dinner?" I hesitated. "I'm sorry, the village is a bit rustic. There isn't much to offer."
Liam finally turned to look at me. "Is this what you eat every day?"
Of course not. The free-range chickens here are delicious, but the villagers rarely eat them. They sell them in town or to truck drivers passing through. A single chicken could fetch a good price. My family only ever had chicken on holidays or special occasions. This one had been stewed specifically to welcome him.
When the food was on the table, Liam picked up his chopsticks and said suddenly, "You still remember I don't eat onions."
I paused, saying nothing.
Liam and I were polar opposites. I had no dietary restrictions; I loved spicy food and was always eager to try new things. He was a fitness fanatic with a bland palate. No onions, no spice, no mushrooms, no seaweed… The list was endless. Besides his family's private chef, I was the person who knew his restrictions best.
After the time I sent him to the hospital with that spicy noodle soup, I became incredibly careful about his food. I was so overwhelmed with guilt that I started working multiple part-time jobs, saving up every penny. My simple goal back then was to treat him to one meal at a high-end restaurant.
It was only later that I learned that the restaurant I had researched and worked three jobs a day to afford was just an everyday occurrence for him.
"Yeah, well, you don't like them, Jason doesn't like them, and I remember my old roommate was allergic to shellfish, and another one didn't eat beef. I've always had a good memory."
The slight smile on Liam's lips slowly faded.
Maybe it was just because we hadn't seen each other in so long, but the silence kept creeping back in. I thought about the mountains of watermelons in the greenhouses, about the hopeful look in the mayor's eyes. If Liam was really here to source produce, I needed to smooth things over. My pride wasn't worth jeopardizing the village's livelihood. The past was the past.
I started searching for a topic of conversation.
"Do you still keep in touch with anyone from college? I wonder what they're all doing now."
"Oh, and what about that stray cat we found by the dorms? The one you adopted. How is he? Is he doing okay?"
"Have you been back to visit any of our old professors? I heard Professor Albright is retiring this year."
My voice was the only sound in the small, quiet room. I talked about our classmates, about the cat, and the memories started to surface. I rambled on for a while before I realized Liam hadn't said a word.
I trailed off, a wave of regret washing over me. I must have been talking his ear off, annoying him with all my questions.
The wind rustled past the window. Liam finally looked up. He didn't answer any of my questions. Instead, he just looked at me, his voice soft and low.
"You ask about our classmates, about the cat, about our professors… what about me?"
"Aren't you going to ask if I was okay these past few years?"

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