The loud thumping in my chest proved the strange anxiety I was feeling. In the past few months that I hadn't seen him, I never felt this way — no fear, no overwhelming sadness… but now, after almost four months of being apart, everything came rushing back. Tears were threatening to fall from my eyes, and the pain in my heart deepened. It felt like something was stuck in my throat, and I couldn’t speak as he just stared at me, his breathing heavy. I didn’t want to look into his eyes, afraid to see what he might be feeling, because I wasn’t sure if I could handle it. I might be wrong again and end up getting hurt.
“What are you doing here?” After a long silence, I finally managed to say it. He sat on the grass in front of me so our eyes could meet at the same level.
“I want to talk to you,” he softly said.
I bit my lower lip, trying to hide the pain I felt seeing his eyes so sad. I couldn’t just give in so easily.
“It’s been almost four months, Lucas… Why now?” I whispered, because I knew if I spoke louder, my voice would break.
Honestly, I had no problem with him not showing up in the past months because I knew I wasn’t ready to face him. But now, I just wanted to ask — I needed to know why he suddenly appeared now, why he chose this moment to see me.
“I couldn’t bear to see you hurting… I waited until you were ready. I wanted to talk to you when you could handle it,” he answered softly.
“I wanted so badly to talk to you back then, but I couldn’t stand seeing you like that,” he added.
I looked into his eyes — they were like mirrors reflecting countless unnamed emotions. I could see my reflection in his almond brown eyes. His face was somber, and his voice sent a chill down my spine.
“And you think that changes the fact that you used me?” my voice cracked as I said it. Tears welled up at the corners of my eyes. He clenched his jaw and took a deep breath.
“I didn’t use you,” he whispered.
My heart ached even more hearing his voice break too. I looked at his eyes and was shocked to see them bloodshot. Frustration and sorrow were written all over his face. My tears fell.
Seeing him this sad, this broken, made my heart shatter even more. It hurt so bad. I wanted to believe him so badly, but my fear was still there. I stayed silent as he slowly wiped my tears away.
“I never used you, Vy… but you chose to believe that I did,” he said, trying hard to sound okay but failing. His voice was full of pain. He was hurting. I could see it in his eyes.
“When you left that day, I wanted so badly to tell you the truth, but I was so broken seeing you disappointed in me. It hurt so much knowing you didn’t even want to hear me explain because you had already decided I used you,” his tears fell.
I cried even harder. The pain in my chest doubled. He was right. I believed what I wanted to believe and shut my mind to his side of the story. I didn’t even give him a chance to explain. I just assumed, believed what Samantha told me, and walked away.
“The moment I saw your world fall apart, thinking I betrayed you… it destroyed me too. But what crushed me even more was seeing that you couldn’t even look at me. What chance did I have if you couldn’t even look me in the eye?” he said with a sad chuckle, though tears still fell from his face. His eyes were so expressive — I could see just how much he was hurting, how much he missed me.
I bit my lower lip and looked down. I couldn’t bear to see him so broken because of me. I couldn’t stand to witness this pain in him knowing I caused it. I didn’t let him explain. I didn’t give him the chance. I just believed someone else.
“The moment I saw you turn your back on me, with your heart shattered and your eyes looking so tired… Vy, I got so scared. I wanted to run after you, hold you, never let you go… but I knew that if I forced you to stay, it would only hurt you more. It would be selfish. I realized you needed to get away from me to heal. I chose to let you go even if it broke me into pieces,” he cried.
He was a big man — tall, broad, and strong — yet now he cried like a child. He looked so weak in front of me, and it hurt me to see him like this.
I quietly cried with him, sitting there in silence. I was hurting, breaking, not just from what I was seeing but from what I was realizing. I thought I was the only one suffering in this situation. I was so filled with anger and bitterness, so consumed by my own pain that I failed to realize he was hurting too.
I wanted to hate myself at that moment — for not letting him explain, for believing Samantha over him, for abandoning the person I should’ve trusted more. How could I forget how he begged me to trust him? How he looked so defeated that day, and yet I chose to ignore him and focus on myself.
And now, seeing him this lost, this broken — crying so hard because of everything we both went through, seeing how badly he longed for my understanding — made me want to turn back time. It shattered me, knowing that my impulsive decisions brought us here.
“I wanted you to trust me… but I understand. You were hurting, and your anger was blinding you, so I let you go. Even though it killed me to see you close your doors to me… I understood you. God, baby, if only I could take away your pain, I would,” he said while looking me directly in the eyes. His tears still streaked his face. His gaze was heavy with emotions that made my chest tighten.
I couldn’t believe how badly I hurt him. All this time, I thought he never cared. But the truth was, I was the one who didn’t.
“Why didn’t you explain yourself back then?” I whispered. I wanted to know why, even when he had the chance, he didn’t fight for his side.
“Baby… you had already made up your mind. And explaining might’ve hurt you even more, might’ve confused you. I didn’t want that. I could take your anger if it meant you’d feel a little better. I could put myself aside if that meant you’d find peace… even if it didn’t include me,” he said, gently caressing my face. He rested his forehead against mine, both our eyes still clouded with tears from the sudden outburst.
“I would rather keep silent if it meant you could move forward. I didn’t care if you hated me — if it helped you heal, I could bear it. I could stay quietly watching over you from afar if it meant you’d find peace,” he said so softly it felt like a whisper of comfort.
I closed my eyes as he continued speaking. His voice brought me calm, his touch made me feel safe.
“I love you so much… but if my presence only hurts you, I’ll stay away. I’ll endure the pain of watching you from afar even if it breaks me,” he said.
Then he smiled and nodded at me, though his eyes still carried so much pain. But I knew his smile was genuine.
“But I’m really proud of you — how you stood up to them during that interview, how you told them the truth. I was so happy seeing you fiercely face them. I wanted so badly to come near you after you left them, but I realized… maybe you didn’t want to see me. So I stepped back and just silently celebrated for you. I’m so proud of you, baby. You are so strong.”
I cried again, and I couldn’t stop myself. I hugged him tightly, burying my face in his chest, now sitting in front of him as well, crying hard while holding him. He hugged me back, caressing my hair, whispering how happy he was for me.
“God, baby… I’m sorry.”
I didn’t say anything. I just let myself cry, and him… him telling his side of the story while fighting back his tears so he could be strong for me.
How stupid of me to forget how safe, how secure he always made me feel whenever he was around.