My Unrequited Love

I was just ten years old when I watched as my parents' coffins were solemnly lifted, their faces hidden from view forever. Their lives ended abruptly in a plane crash while en route to a meeting. Meanwhile, I found myself in the care of Mr. Benjamin Cooper, a close friend of my father's from childhood.

Initially intended as a short stay, my time with Mr. Cooper stretched into several years as he became my legal guardian following my parents' tragic passing. In my youthful naivety, I clung to the hope that my parents might one day return, but as the years passed, reality sank in. I slowly came to terms with being the lone survivor of the Miller family.

I was never formally adopted by Mr. Cooper, though the reasons remain a mystery to me. Nevertheless, his love for me was unwavering. He was a kind-hearted man, much like my own parents. A successful businessman, his days were often consumed by work, but he always made time for us – for me, Amanda, and Atlas.

Atlas, the eldest of Mr. Cooper's children, had a special place in my heart. When I first entered Mr. Cooper's home, Atlas was on the brink of college, an 18-year-old embarking on his own journey. Even before tragedy struck my family, Atlas had been a protective figure in my life, watching over both me and his sister, Amanda.

Before I became a permanent fixture in the Cooper household, my parents would entrust me to Mr. Cooper's care whenever they traveled. In turn, Mr. Cooper would reciprocate when he had to leave town, ensuring that his children and I were well cared for by a dedicated caretaker. It was a bond that extended beyond blood ties, a testament to the love and compassion that filled our homes.

Unlike Atlas, who always showed kindness and love towards me even in my childhood, Amanda and I never got along. She, being two years older, seemed to relish in bullying me, making my time at Mr. Cooper's house a living nightmare. Whenever Amanda tormented me, Atlas would rush to my defense, but his absence after moving out left me vulnerable to her relentless cruelty.

As I matured, I found the strength to stand up to Amanda's torment. What began as timid resistance evolved into a steadfast resolve, making it increasingly difficult for her to intimidate me. Thankfully, when I turned sixteen and she left for college at eighteen, peace finally settled over the household. Her departure, especially to a university in another state, brought me a sense of relief.

However, tranquility was short-lived. Mr. Cooper's battle with cancer shattered our newfound calm, and despite his valiant fight, he succumbed to the illness just months after treatment. At seventeen, I found myself once again alone, grappling with the weight of loss and uncertainty.

As I approached adulthood, fear gripped me, dreading the possibility of being sent away to a foster home. However, fate had a different plan. When Mr. Cooper acknowledged his impending fate, he took a decisive step: appointing Atlas as my guardian for the remaining year.

Atlas, the very same person I harbored a deep crush on, which later bloomed into love. Despite his increasing distance since moving out when I was eleven, he never ceased to be kind to me. His smiles and occasional acts of assistance were small comforts amidst the turmoil of loss and change.

As Atlas matured, so did his appearance, transforming from a boyish charm to a strikingly masculine figure. I watched in awe as stubble peppered his once clean-shaven face, his honey-brown eyes gained wisdom beyond his years, and his stature grew taller and more imposing. His evolving fashion sense, from casual tees to tailored shirts, only added to his allure, leaving me spellbound with each passing day.

I had always counted on Atlas's warm embrace, his unwavering kindness and protective nature were constants in my life for twenty-one years. Yet, upon his return home for his father's funeral, he seemed more distant than ever. I reasoned that the weight of grief must have burdened him, understanding all too well the pain of losing family.

A few days after Mr. Cooper's funeral, I found myself avoiding encounters with Amanda, who had returned from college for the somber occasion. As I made my way back to my room, I overheard Atlas conversing with Mr. Ghallenger, Mr. Cooper's lawyer, in his father's study. Intrigued, I paused to eavesdrop on their conversation.

"How can I possibly look after her, Jason? She is not a kid. I have my own responsibilities to juggle. Taking over Dad's business has already pushed me to my limits, and now I'm expected to take Harper under my wing?" His words sliced through me, carrying a weight of frustration that pierced my heart.

Outside the room, I stood frozen, my heart sinking with each word. Numbness crept into my fingertips, a chill racing down my spine. "Look, Jason, I do care about Harper, but I don't know if I can handle this. Maybe she can stay here for a while longer, with some other support. I'll drop by when I can, but do I really have to take her in?" His tone left me feeling undesired, like an unwelcome burden.

Mr. Ghallenger let out a heavy sigh. "I'm afraid so, Atlas. It's a significant responsibility, but it's your father's wish. And remember, inheriting the business is contingent upon it," he explained, his tone weighted with solemnity.

"Well, that's just great," Atlas muttered in frustration. Unable to bear any more of the conversation, I hurriedly retreated to my room.

That night, tears streamed down my face as I grappled with the harsh reality of my situation. I cried for my innocence lost, for the loneliness that engulfed me, and for the overwhelming sense of helplessness. With no one to turn to, I felt utterly alone. Knowing that I wouldn't gain access to my parents' wealth until I turned twenty-one, I had no choice but to comply with Atlas's guardianship, a prospect that filled me with trepidation and uncertainty.

The following month, I made the move into Atlas's penthouse. Despite his warm smile of welcome, I couldn't shake the feeling that it was forced, that he didn't truly want me there. I felt like an unwanted burden. I wanted to harbor resentment toward him, but his genuine kindness toward me made it impossible. Despite his initial reluctance, he ensured I was cared for and looked after. A year later, we both moved into Mr. Cooper's house. 

Throughout the year, I carried the weight of shame for being a burden while Atlas dutifully fulfilled his responsibilities as my guardian, unaware of the turmoil within me. Despite sharing the same roof, Atlas remained distant, his presence fleeting as he immersed himself in work and travel.