I woke up today with an overwhelming sense of confusion and sadness. I looked around my room, trying to make sense of everything, but my mind was racing with questions. Why was I feeling this way? How did we end up here? I thought about the time when we were in love. Back then, we were the golden couple. We laughed, we had fun, and from the outside it looked like we had everything a relationship needed. But something was missing… something important: decency and honesty. Why did you choose to do this? Why did you break me and break what we had? How can someone be so egotistical and still act like they're above everything, floating on the surface like oil on water? I'm honestly at a loss for words. The only explanation I can find is that he was a very convincing actor. Somehow he made me believe that everything between us was real, that this was the story's happy ending. Back then I didn't even stop to think about how I truly felt. I was just drowning in sadness. But now I realize the worst part wasn't the heartbreak. The worst part was how he made me feel about myself. He made me feel stupid. I still remember that day. I felt so incredibly stupid for giving him a chance to explain something that never really mattered. And now it disgusts me. You made me question myself. You made me feel like a fool. But I will never accept your explanations. Your trauma does not excuse the mess you created. You are simply cruel. Just a bad person. "Ahh… I can't breathe in here," I muttered to myself. "I need to change my clothes." With that thought, I walked into my closet.
When I stepped outside, the sun was shining brightly, but no one seemed to notice. It's as if the wind was carrying its strength into our very bones, mirroring the emotions I was experiencing. Life continued to move forward, but the sadness that resided in my heart and mind refused to fade away. I felt hurt, and I couldn't help but wonder why I had to endure this lesson. It wasn't my fault, but it was a part of me now, and I could only feel it and continue living with it. I grabbed my bag, took a deep breath, and headed toward the café where Zack had asked to meet me. My hands felt tight around the strap, my stomach twisting, but I knew I needed this closure.
The café was quieter than I expected. I paused at the door, catching sight of Zack sitting near the corner by the window, fingers wrapped around a cold cup of coffee. He noticed me almost immediately and stood almost too quickly, his expression carefully neutral but eyes sharp, as if measuring my reaction. "Haze," he said simply. I walked over and sat down across from him. "You have ten minutes," I said firmly. His mouth twitched. "Still timing me," he said. I replied, "Time matters." For a moment he just studied me, like he was memorizing every line of my face.
"You look… colder," he said. "I feel different," I said. "That sounds worse." "For you maybe," I replied. He exhaled slowly and ran a hand through his hair. "I didn't ask you here to argue." "Then you shouldn't have cheated," I said, letting the words hang between us. He didn't deny it. That alone was enough to make my stomach twist. Instead, he placed his phone on the table. "You think you know what happened," he said quietly. "I do." "You know the ending. Not the beginning." I crossed my arms. "This better not be an excuse." "It's not."
He unlocked the phone and turned the screen toward me. "Look." I hesitated, then picked it up. The first picture showed me standing outside a café with Ethan, laughing, mid-conversation, excitement in both of our faces. "What am I supposed to see here?" I asked. "There are more," he said. I swiped. Another picture. Another angle. Same afternoon. Ethan standing close to me, our shoulders brushing slightly. I put the phone down slowly. "Zack," I said, "that's my friend." "She showed me those," he admitted quietly. Of course she did. "The girl you cheated with?" I asked. He nodded. "She started talking to me months before everything happened," he continued. "At first it was just conversations. Nothing serious." "And that made you loyal, obviously," I said sharply. He ignored it. "She kept telling me she saw you with him." "Because he's my friend," I said. "She said it looked like more than that." I leaned back. "Did it?" "You looked happy." "That's not a crime," I said. He unlocked the phone again. Another photo. Ethan hugging me on the sidewalk, celebrating a new position at the district administration office. I remembered laughing, wrapping my arms around him. That's it. A quick, normal hug. Nothing more. But in the photo, from the angle, it looked intimate. "She showed me that one first," Zack said. I looked at him. "She told me that was the moment you admitted you were leaving me." I blinked. "What?" "She said Ethan had just gotten the job, and that you were planning to move closer to where he worked." "That's ridiculous." "She made it sound convincing." "Because you wanted to believe it," I said. His jaw tightened. "She kept sending pictures," he continued. "Every time you were busy. Every time you didn't answer my messages right away." "So you assumed the worst." "I thought you were already halfway out of the relationship." I stared at him. "You could have asked me." "You would have denied it." "Because it wasn't true." He rubbed his face with both hands, frustrated. "She spent weeks telling me you were already replacing me." "And you trusted her." "I trusted what I was already afraid of."
Silence fell. Rain tapped softly against the window. "You know what the worst part is?" I said finally. "What?" "You didn't trust me enough to ask one question." His eyes lifted slowly. "I thought you were leaving." "So you cheated first," I said. "I thought you already had." I shook my head. "That doesn't make sense." "It did to me at the time," he admitted. Another silence stretched between us. "You were manipulated," I said. "Yes." "But you still made the decision." His fingers tightened around the phone. "Yes." "You still cheated." "Yes." "You still lied." He didn't argue. That almost made it worse. "I believe you," I said after a moment. That surprised him. "You do?" "Yes." He frowned. "Then why do you still look at me like that?" Because understanding didn't change anything. "Because being manipulated doesn't erase what you chose to do," I said calmly. The words hung between us. I stood up. His head lifted immediately. "That's it?" he asked. "That's it." "You're really leaving?" I looked at him. "I already did." I walked toward the door, the café bell ringing softly behind me, and for a moment, Zack stayed frozen in place, rain beginning to blur the city outside the window.
Then, quietly, almost like speaking to himself, he said, "I don't know how to make you stay… or if I even should. I just… can't stop remembering you." For a second, I froze. My chest tightened. My heart… it skipped. That was it. Nothing more. No promises, no apologies—just that fragile, incomplete confession. And yet… somehow, it landed.