The Bodyguard of the Heart: Shielding Her from the Truth

My name is Oscar, and I am the curator of a beautiful lie.

I live in Madrid, and I’ve known Elena since we were children. She’s been dating Roberto for two years. Roberto is a charming, hollow man who treats her like a footnote. I’m the one who knows his secrets. I’m the one who saw him at the club with another woman. I’m the one who intercepted the texts that would have broken her heart.

I didn't tell her. I justified the silence by telling myself I was protecting her peace. But I went further. When Roberto forgot her birthday, I bought the diamond bracelet, put it in a box with his name on it, and left it on her doorstep. I watched from my window as she ran to him, sobbing with joy, thanking him for being "the most romantic man on earth." He just smirked and took the credit.

I’ve spent thousands of Euros "fixing" his mistakes. I sent her flowers on their anniversary when he was out of town with someone else. I pay for their "surprise" dinners by calling the restaurants in advance and giving my credit card number. I am the reason she believes she is in a perfect relationship. She tells me everything—how "lucky" she is, how Roberto is "the one." Every word is a needle in my heart, but I’d rather be the one bleeding in secret than see her cry for real. I am the architect of a love story that excludes me, holding up the walls of a house that will never be mine.