Can there be something greater than love?

She sat on the edge of the balcony, the soft hum of the city below her—a life that she built, yet never felt entirely her own. The tea in her cup was cold, but she didn’t mind. She doesn't care. It can never be as cold as her heart is, she thinks . Her eyes were fixed on the distant skyline, where memories lingered like shadows. “If only things had been different,” she thought, the ache in her chest still as sharp as the day she left. The decision had been made with logic, with family, with everything but her heart. And still, it wasn’t enough to erase the ghost of him . She closes her eyes slowly while reminiscing the good old days. University days Wila was seated alone in her chair at school. Her friends, her classmates, had all left for break. She rested her head on the table, one hand clutching her stomach, and stared down at the empty room. The silence pressed in on her, and she couldn’t shake the heaviness of her thoughts. Everything felt like too much. She couldn’t even think through her problems when they overwhelmed her, like a storm on the horizon. Just then, she felt a tap on her shoulder. “Hey, pretty. What are you doing here all by yourself?” Stephan’s voice cut through the silence, making her instinctively lift her head. Her eyes met his, and suddenly, tears welled up in her eyes. She didn’t want to cry. Not here. Not now. But the weight of it all came crashing down, and she couldn’t hold it in anymore. “Hey, boo, what’s wrong? Is everything alright?” Stephan’s voice was gentle, a quiet reassurance that she didn’t deserve, but desperately needed. Wila shook her head, the tears flowing freely now. "Not really, Stephan. I'm so tired. I can't do this anymore." Stephan’s expression softened. “Can you calm down and explain to me properly? I’m worried about you.” Wila looked at him, and for a moment, she wondered, since when had she started crying in front of him so easily? She had always been the strong one, the one who carried her burdens alone. But maybe sometimes, crying wasn’t a sign of weakness—it was a sign of a strength that had been stretched too thin. She wiped her eyes and took a deep breath. “I’m sorry I made you worry... It’s nothing big, just the usual.” He didn’t seem convinced. He sat down next to her, his eyes never leaving hers. “Wila, I’ve told you before—come stay with my mom and me. You don’t have to go through this alone.” She shook her head. “You know why I can’t do that. I have to stay with my siblings. They’re too young. I can’t just abandon them. Plus, I’ll graduate soon, and I’ll find a good job to take care of Mom’s hospital bills. I’ll be fine. I promise.” She reached for his hands, holding them in hers. It was a quiet moment of connection, and for a second, she allowed herself to feel a flicker of hope. He sighed, looking at her with his usual expression—a mix of love and admiration, the kind of look that both comforted and tore at her heart. She wanted to say it—that she loved him, that she always had. But the words sat like stones in her throat, heavy and unmoving. What if saying them changed everything? What if it made him look at her differently? What if… he didn’t feel the same? So instead, she smiled. That soft, practiced smile that hid everything her heart screamed. They sat for a moment in silence, enjoying each other’s company. The quiet was a strange kind of music, a love song that only the two of them could hear. It was the kind of silence that was comfortable, filled with things unsaid but understood. Then, Stephan broke the moment, a grin spreading across his face as he remembered something. “I almost forgot. I brought you lunch, as usual,” he said, holding out a lunch box with a wide smile, as if it were the most natural thing in the world. She couldn’t help but smile back, the warmth in his gaze making her heart swell with tenderness. She hadn’t had anything to eat since last night’s evening meal. “Thanks, Stephan. You’re always so thoughtful and kind to me. I promise you, one day I’ll be the one taking care of you,” she said softly, her voice carrying a sincerity she rarely allowed herself to express. She opened the lunch box, and there it was—his signature: heart-shaped pancakes with strawberries and chocolate. Instinctively, she smiled, the familiarity of the gesture filling her with a bittersweet longing. These pancakes had been her comfort for so long. But in a few months, they would only be memories. Her memories. The taste of the pancakes lingered on her tongue, but the moment was interrupted by the sound of her child’s voice calling from another room. The reality of her present life crashed over her, the weight of her responsibilities pulling her back. Wila blinked, the vision of Stephan’s face—a quiet, loving presence—fading as she forced herself to return to the world she had created. A life of success, of stability, but also of sacrifice. Her son’s voice echoed through the hallway, pulling her back like a tide. She blinked, the taste of chocolate and strawberries still vivid on her tongue, though the moment was long gone. The man she once loved, the man she still loved, was slipping farther away with each passing day. “Mom, I’ve been calling you. Is everything alright?” She smiles at him reassuringly, though it doesn’t quite reach her eyes. Her son always had a way of noticing when something wasn’t right, even if she hadn’t said a word. “Yeah, everything is fine,” she says, her voice steady but betraying a hint of hesitation. “I was just thinking… mmm about the offer I got for my restaurant, you know…” “The investment?” he says, which makes her sigh in relief. She nods, almost grateful for the distraction. “Yeah, that.” She trails off, her face momentarily looking distant. It wasn’t even an option for her to sell the shares of her restaurant chain. She had poured every ounce of herself into building it, sacrificed too much to ever walk away. But what did that matter if she was only living half a life? She pushed the thought away, knowing it wouldn’t help. No one knew about the deep ache she carried for a love lost long ago. And that was how it needed to stay. “So, my love, why have you been calling me?” she asks, turning her attention back to her son. “Oh, that. Everyone’s waiting for you.” He says, still gazing up at her, his big brown eyes full of love and trust. He was too young to understand why she was often distant, even if she tried her best to hide it. “I hope your father’s friends haven’t drunk all the fridge already.” She jokes, her lips curling into a smile. His laughter fills the space between them, and she can’t help but laugh too. The sound is a fleeting moment of joy, a brief escape from the weight she carries. They walk away from the balcony of their luxurious apartment at the top floor of the building in Hamburg, the city skyline sprawling before them. For a brief second, it almost feels like she’s holding everything together. But inside, the pain still lingers, and it always will.