Yᴏᴜʀs ᴛʀᴜʟʏ | Cʜɪsʜɪʏᴀ Sʜᴜɴᴛᴀʀᴏ̄

🂱 73 🂱

"I don't know how to deal with your absence."

Chapter 73

She stared at him, her initial shock giving way to a cold, steely resolve.

„Pass? You think my feelings are some temporary infatuation?" her voice sharpened, dripping with sarcasm.

„How convenient for you. You get to walk away and pretend none of this ever mattered."

He flinched, her harsh words hitting their mark.

„That is not what I—„

„Save it," she interrupted, her tone venomous, „You are a coward. Too scared to face what we could have had. Too selfish to care about anyone but yourself. You talk about being lost? Maybe if you were not so consumed with your and your father's shit, you'd realize you're not the only one suffering."

He stood there, absorbing her words, each one a dagger to his heart. The space between them felt heavy with the weight of unspoken emotions, the air thick with tension.

"I am not being selfish," he began, his voice trembling with emotion. "I am trying to do what is best for both of us."

"Oh, spare me your noble act!" she cut in, her voice rising to a fever pitch. "You think you're some tragic hero, doing this for my own good? That's just an excuse to run away. You're scared of commitment, scared of being vulnerable."

His eyes flashed with frustration, a storm brewing beneath the surface, "And what about you? You're so focused on yourself, on some stupid fantasies. So focused on what you want. I'm tired of this. Tired of you trying to convince me of something I don't believe in. It's exhausting! Not even talking about the fact I tried to believe all of that," he spat, his gaze falling to the bracelet she clutched in her right hand.

Aina's grip tightened around the bracelet, a symbol of something what happened before, now slipping through their fingers.

"I am willing to work through the pain, to face problems head-on. But you? You just give up. You'd rather walk away than put in the effort to fix things!"

"I can't fix this!" he exclaimed, his voice breaking, raw and unguarded. His composure shattered, revealing the depth of his own pain.

"I can't keep pretending everything will be okay. We're just hurting each other."

Aina's eyes filled with tears, her heart breaking as she watched him unravel, "So that's it? After everything we've been through, you're just going to leave?"

He looked at her, his expression a mix of sorrow and determination, "Sometimes walking away is the only way to save ourselves."

The silence that followed was deafening, filled with the echoes of their shattered dreams and unspoken goodbyes. As he turned to leave, the world seemed to close in around Aina, a void of emptiness engulfing her.

„Really?" she hissed, stepping closer, her eyes blazing with fury, „This is about you and your inability to face your own demons."

His jaw tightened and he clenched his fists at his sides. "You do not understand—"

"No, I do understand," she snapped, her voice sharp and unforgiving. "I understand perfectly. You're too scared to love, too scared to be loved. So you sabotage everything good in your life."

"See?" he retorted, his voice a bitter mix of anger and hurt, "You can't stand the way I am, can you?"

She closed her eyes briefly, the weight of her accusation settling over her like a heavy cloak. When she opened them again, they were filled with sorrow and resignation.

"You're right," she admitted softly., "I can't."

They stood in the stillness, the echoes of their confrontation hanging heavy in the air, like the remnants of a storm that had passed yet left everything in disarray. Aina's words, raw and unfiltered, lingered between them, an irrevocable verdict rendered in the heat of despair. His face, once hardened by anger and defiance, softened into something more tragic—an expression that spoke of sorrow too deep for words.

The silence that followed was oppressive, the kind that only comes when there is nothing left to say, nothing left to salvage. Their arguments had circled endlessly, like a serpent consuming its own tail, until they were both too exhausted to continue the fight.

Aina could feel the ache in her chest, a dull throbbing that threatened to consume her. And yet, beneath the sorrow, there was a strange, unsettling calm. The truth she had long tried to bury had finally surfaced, and with it, a bitter sense of release. This was what she had feared most, and now that it was upon her, there was no turning back.

He stood there for a moment longer, as if gathering the strength to walk away, but something in him faltered. Before he could take that final step, Aina reached out, her fingers brushing against his arm in a gesture that was equal parts desperate and tender. It was a plea, an unspoken wish for what might have been, for the love that now lay in ruins between them.

Their eyes met, and in that fleeting gaze, they shared a world of unspoken words. There was no more anger, no more accusation—only a deep, mutual sorrow for what they had lost.

Gently, almost reluctantly, she let her hand fall away from his arm, the cold returning as the warmth of his touch left her. He hesitated, just for a moment, as if he might turn back, but then the resolve in his eyes hardened, and he took a step towards the door. Each footfall was a quiet echo of the distance now widening between them, a distance that could never be bridged.

The tears she had held at bay finally broke free as he started walking away. She was hoping for something more to happen. But in fact, it would be too much to ask for something romantic from him. Therefore, she too decided to turn back and leave, even though her heart desperately yearned for just one touch from him, one single kind word. Anything that could soothe her bleeding wounds.