Heartbreaker VK

I was eight years old when I fell in love with the boy who would one day hate me.

His name was Elias. Mama Celeste’s only son. The king of my heart before I even knew what love was.

Rosevale was supposed to be my forever. How could it not be? Endless land. Quiet beauty. The kind of place that made you believe the world still had some good left in it. But it wasn’t the mango trees or the beautiful winding river that made me stay.

It was Mama Celeste.

After losing my parents, she welcomed me without a second thought. No legal paperwork. No inquiries. Just genuine love, the kind that saved me. She provided me with Villa del Rosario, tutors, clothes, and jewelry that sparkled with possibility. Even a weekly allowance that most girls in Santa Rosalía could only dream of. 

But none of that compared to the one thing I wanted most: him.

When I arrived, I was eight. Elias was thirteen. Tall. Quiet. Untouchable. The kind of boy people noticed without him saying a word. Girls tripped over themselves to be near him; boys followed him like shadows. But he let no one in. Especially not me.

I watched him anyway. Every day. Watched him disappear into the Whispering Grove, a place no one dared to follow,  except me. I would hide behind the trees, holding my breath, just to watch him draw.

Yes, Elias was an artist. Of course he was. As if being beautiful wasn’t enough. When he sketched, there was a stillness in him, a world I could never enter.

At times, he would notice me spying. He’d utter a single word. . . “Leave,” and I would. But that never deterred me. 

I created my own secret spot, a clearing by the Del Cielo River, where the lagoon sparkled in the sunlight. That was where I went when the longing for him became overwhelming. 

Then came my fourteenth birthday. 

He was about to leave for university in a week. Everyone knew. I told myself it didn’t matter, but that morning, I escaped to the lagoon with my blanket and stared at the sky until I drifted off.

Footsteps woke me.

He stood over me  older now, nineteen, eyes locked on mine for the first time.

“So… this is what you’ve been up to, Princess,” he said, his voice low, the word dripping with sarcasm.

“W-what?”

“While everyone’s busy setting up your party, you’re here pretending you’re royalty. How charming.”

Guilt pricked me. He was right. Everyone was working, and I was hiding. I sat up, brushing leaves from my skirt, but he caught my elbow.

“Where are you going?”

“T-to the villa…”

“No need.” He pushed me gently back down and knelt across from me, eyes unreadable as they drifted over the lagoon, the flowers, the sky.

“You know,” he said finally, “I’m just glad I’m leaving this place.”

“What?” I blinked. “But Rosevale is your home.”

He leaned forward. Close enough that I could feel the cool mint of his breath. My heart pounded. I wanted to stay like that forever.

“I’m glad,” he said flatly, “because I won’t have to see your face anymore.”

The words hit like a knife.

“W-why do you hate me?”

His jaw tightened. “Because I’ll never accept you as my sister. You’ll never be Arielle.”