The Surrogate He Discarded

Richard was silent as he drove along the highway toward the orphanage.

Both hands rested steadily on the steering wheel, his eyes fixed on the road ahead. The low hum of the engine filled the otherwise quiet car.

Kristal sat in the passenger seat, while Grandma Sharon occupied the back.

For several minutes, Kristal said nothing.

She simply watched Richard from the corner of her eye.

The familiar profile. The strong line of his jaw. The slight furrow between his brows whenever he concentrated on the road.

The last time Kristal had been in a car with Richard, it was nighttime. She barely saw his face in the darkness, catching only fleeting glimpses whenever they passed beneath a streetlight.

But this morning was different.

Sunlight streamed through the windshield, illuminating the side of his face. From the corner of her eye, she could see him clearly—the steady hands resting on the steering wheel, the focused look in his eyes, even the subtle movement of his jaw as he drove.

She found herself watching him a little longer than she should.

He hadn’t changed much.

She smiled to herself.

Still quiet. Still difficult to read.

And, unfortunately for her, still ridiculously handsome.

She quickly turned her face toward the window before he could catch her staring.

When did this happen?

When had Richard stopped being simply the injured man she had once helped care for at Fiorenza and become someone who could make her heart beat faster just by sitting beside her?

It certainly wasn’t love at first sight.

Quite the opposite.

The first time she saw Richard, he was lying in a bed at her Grandmother’s villa in Fiorenza, looking as though he had lost a fight with an entire gang.

His face was swollen. One eye was nearly shut, and dark bruises covered his cheekbones and jaw.

She had stared at him for several seconds before forming her first impression.

How ugly.

Yet somehow, that battered stranger had gradually become one of the most familiar person in her life.

Kristal’s gaze drifted toward the passing scenery.

And just like that, an old memory surfaced.

She was back in college.

Richard had been staying at Fiorenza then, recovering from his injuries. He was five years older than her, but somehow, without either of them realizing it, he had become part of her everyday routine.

Sometimes, he would ride his bicycle to her school and wait outside the gate.

Kristal would come rushing out with her books clutched against her chest.

”You came late again,” she would complain.

Richard would glance at his watch.

”I’ve been waiting for twenty minutes.”

”Exactly.”

His eyebrows would rise.

”How does that make me late?”

”Because you should have arrived thirty minutes ago.”

”That doesn’t make any sense.”

”It does to me. Because you were late, I went somewhere else.”

Richard would simply sigh before handing her the spare helmet.

”Get on.”

And somehow, she always did.

She remembered sitting behind him, her arms wrapped loosely around his waist as they rode back to her Grandma’s villa.

Back then, she told herself she was only holding on because the road was bumpy.

She had never questioned why she always looked forward to the ride home.

Sometimes, after arriving at Fiorenza, they would spend the late afternoon walking along the beach.

Richard was never much of a talker.

Kristal, on the other hand, could talk for hours.

”You’re quiet again,” she once complained as they walked barefoot along the shoreline.

”I’ve always been quiet,” he replied.

”That’s not true.”

Richard glanced at her.

”You used to talk enough for both of us.”

Kristal stopped walking.

”But it’s you who talked a lot. Not me.” A faint smile tugged at the corner of Richard’s mouth.

”Fine. If you say so, I’m the chatterbox.”

Kristal lightly bumped her shoulder against his.

”See? This is why I like talking to you. You actually listen.”

”I don’t have much choice.”

Kristal gasped.

”That was rude.”

Richard chuckled.

She stared at him.

”There. You laughed.”

”I didn’t.”

”You did.”

”I smiled.”

”Same thing.”

”It’s not.”

”It is when you do it.”

He shook his head and continued walking.

Kristal hurried after him.

She loved moments like this.

There was something strangely comforting about walking beside Richard. He didn’t need to fill every silence. He didn’t seem bothered by her endless chatter, either.

He simply listened.

Sometimes, he would ask about her classes.

”How was school today?”

”Terrible.”

”Why?”

”My professor gave us an impossible assignment.”

”You always say that.”

”Because they are always impossible.”

”And yet you always finish them.”

Kristal lifted her chin proudly.

”Because I’m brilliant.”

Richard gave her a sideways glance.

”Modest, too.”

”I have to be. Nobody else is going to praise me.”

His quiet laugh made her smile.

Those small conversations had meant far more to her than he probably realized.

At the time, Richard rarely spoke about himself.

He never talked much about his childhood or the life he had lived before coming to Fiorenza. Whenever she asked about his past, he would either give her a vague answer or quietly steer the conversation somewhere else.

But there had been moments when she caught him staring at the sunset, his expression strangely distant.

As though he wasn’t really looking at the sky.

As though he was searching for someone beyond the horizon.

Kristal noticed. She had always noticed.

But she never forced him to talk.

She simply stayed beside him, allowing him to keep his silence whenever he needed it.

Back then, she had assumed he was simply haunted by whatever happened to him before he arrived at Fiorenza.

But now...

Now she wondered if she had misunderstood those moments all along.

Was the person Richard been missing all those years...

Isobel?

Kristal’s breath caught.

Suddenly, all those memories—the distant look in his eyes, the unexplained sadness, the way he sometimes seemed to drift somewhere far beyond her reach—felt different.

She closed her eyes tightly, as if she could shut the thought out before it took root.

No.

Those were her special moments with Richard.

She didn’t want to think it was Isobel.

Because if Isobel really was the person Richard had been thinking for all those years...

Then what had Kristal actually been to him?