WHO IS HIS LOVER ?

The Man Who Loved in Silence Rain poured endlessly from a dark, swollen sky, as though the heavens themselves could no longer bear the weight they carried. Thick clouds pressed low, suffocating the world beneath them. The air was heavy, almost unwilling to move, and every breath felt like an effort. The road had turned into a dull mirror of water and mud. Raindrops struck the ground in relentless rhythm, creating ripples that overlapped and vanished—just like the fragile lives of people. Birds cried loudly from distant trees, their voices sharp and uneasy, as if they sensed something unnatural. Thunder rolled across the sky, deep and distant at first, then crashing closer with a voice that seemed almost alive. And there, in the center of it all— A man’s lifeless body lay on the ground. Covered partially with a white cloth already soaked in rain, his still form drew a crowd that kept growing by the minute. People stood around him in silence at first. Then the silence broke. Some cried openly, their sobs blending with the sound of falling rain. Others whispered quietly, as if afraid their voices might disturb the dead. “Why didn’t Maro ever get married?” one woman murmured, her voice trembling. “He never loved any girl…” another added, shaking her head slowly. “Dying at 30… this is not the right age to die…” Their words floated through the air, mixing with grief, curiosity, and something else—something unspoken. Regret. Maro. A man everyone knew. And yet… a man no one truly understood. The Sudden Arrival Time seemed to stretch. Minutes felt longer under the rain, as if the world itself had slowed to mourn. Then suddenly— A car appeared. Its tires cut through the wet road, sending water splashing to the sides. It stopped abruptly near the gathered crowd, its engine still humming faintly as if unwilling to let go of motion. Before anyone could react, the door burst open. Three people rushed out. They didn’t look around. They didn’t hesitate. They ran straight toward the body. It was Maro’s brother. The moment he reached him, his legs gave out. He collapsed beside Maro’s body, his hands trembling as they reached for his brother’s cold face. “Brother…!” he cried out, his voice breaking in a way that pierced through the rain. “Why did you leave without me?!” His cry echoed, raw and unfiltered. His wife followed, falling to her knees beside him, tears streaming down her face as she covered her mouth to hold back her sobs. Their daughter stood close, crying helplessly, her small shoulders shaking as she clung to her mother. The grief was contagious. The crowd fell quieter, their whispers fading into silence. But then— Something strange happened. The Mystery Voice From inside the car… A sound emerged. Soft at first. Then clearer. A voice. A child’s voice. Crying. Not just crying— Calling. The sound cut through everything—the rain, the thunder, the murmurs. Everyone turned. Confusion spread like a ripple through the crowd. “Who is that?” “Is there someone else in the car?” “Whose child is that?” People began whispering again, but this time louder, more restless. Speculation grew quickly, voices overlapping. No one had seen a child arrive. No one knew what this meant. The crying continued. Small. Fragile. But filled with something that felt… personal. The Reveal Then— The car door opened again. Slowly this time. And from inside, a little girl stepped out. She was small, delicate, her clothes slightly damp from the humidity in the air. Her hair clung to her forehead, and her eyes—her eyes were filled with tears that seemed far too heavy for someone her age. She hesitated for only a second. Then she ran. Straight toward Maro. Her tiny feet splashed through puddles as she moved, her breaths uneven, her voice trembling as she cried out— “Dad…! Dad…!” The word hit like thunder. The crowd froze. Time itself seemed to stop. The girl reached Maro’s body and dropped beside him, wrapping her arms tightly around him as if she could pull him back to life through sheer will. “Dad… wake up… please…!” Her cries broke something inside everyone present. But confusion struck just as hard. Shock spread across faces like wildfire. Even Maro’s parents stood frozen, unable to process what they had just heard. His father stepped forward slowly, his brows tightening, his voice uncertain yet firm. “Who are you?” he asked. The girl didn’t answer. She only cried harder. “Why are you crying?” he continued, his tone rising slightly. “He is not your father…” Truth Begins to Surface Before the silence could settle— A voice cut through. “Dad…!” It was Maro’s brother. His face was filled with tears, but his eyes held something else too. Determination. “Dad… she is your granddaughter!” The words landed heavily. The father staggered slightly, as if struck. “What?” he whispered. His voice rose in disbelief. “Maro got married? How is this possible?” The crowd erupted again. “Did Maro have an affair?” “Is she his secret daughter?” “Was he hiding this from everyone?” The whispers grew louder, sharper, more invasive. But Namu—Maro’s brother—couldn’t take it anymore. The Hidden Truth “Dad… please don’t say things like that,” Namu said, his voice shaking. “I promised Maro… I wouldn’t tell anyone…” The father turned to him, frustration and grief clashing in his expression. “Maro is already gone!” he shouted. “Everyone is confused—including me!” His voice broke. “Forget your promise and tell me the truth!” Rain continued to fall. But now, it felt quieter. As if even the storm was waiting. Namu took a deep breath. His hands trembled. Tears streamed down his face as he spoke. “Okay…” “I will tell you…” He looked at the little girl still clinging to Maro. And then back at his father. “That child…” “…was adopted by Maro from a children’s home.” The crowd fell silent. Completely. “He named her… Esima.” Emotional Release The father’s expression changed. Slowly. Shock melted into realization. Then into something deeper. Something warmer. Pride. His eyes filled with tears—not just of grief, but of something profound. He turned toward the crowd, his voice now steady, strong. “My son adopted a child…!” There was no shame. No hesitation. Only pride. He looked at the little girl. And his voice softened instantly. “My dear granddaughter…” “Come here, Esima.” The girl looked up, hesitant. Then slowly, she stood and walked toward him. He knelt down and opened his arms. She ran into them. He held her tightly, as if afraid she might disappear. Tears rolled down his face freely. Namu’s daughter, Lana, ran forward too, wrapping her arms around Esima. The two children held each other, bound not by blood—but by something just as strong. Family. And under the heavy rain, the broken pieces began to come together. Next Morning The rain had stopped. The sky was clear, washed clean by the storm. Sunlight gently touched the earth, as if offering comfort. Esima stood near Maro’s body, now prepared for the final rites. She looked small beside him. Fragile. Lost. “Dad…” she said softly. “Come play with me…” Her voice was innocent. Unaware. She turned to her grandfather. “Grandpa… why isn’t Dad coming?” The question shattered what little strength remained in the crowd. Tears returned. Silently. The grandfather knelt beside her. His voice was gentle. Careful. “Your dad has gone to God…” He paused, swallowing his pain. “He will come later…” Final Farewell The sun shone brightly that day. Birds sang again—softly this time. As if they, too, had accepted what had happened. High above, an eagle soared across the sky, its wings steady and free. Maro’s funeral began. Drums played in slow rhythm. People gathered in large numbers. Not dozens. Not hundreds. Thousands. More than a thousand of Maro’s friends came to say goodbye. Each one carrying a memory. A story. A piece of a man they thought they knew. But now realized— They never truly did. Final Line The man who was said to have never loved… Left behind a love no one ever knew.