Y/N's POV:
The rain hammered against the windowpane, mirroring the storm raging inside me.
Hanni sat across from me, a comforting distance, her eyes reflecting the flickering candlelight on the table.
It had been two years since we’d broken up, two years since I’d last seen the warmth in her gaze, the way it used to melt my anxieties away.
Now, it was filled with a different kind of warmth, a warmth that belonged to someone else.
“He’s… nice,” Hanni said, her voice soft, almost apologetic.
“He seems nice,” I echoed, trying to keep my voice steady. I knew she was trying to be gentle, but every time she spoke about him, it felt like a thousand tiny needles pricking at my heart.
She had never been one for subtlety, not with me. We were a whirlwind of passionate arguments, whispered promises, and laughter that echoed through the quiet nights.
Now, all that remained were fragments, ghosts of a love that had burned bright and then quickly faded.
“He takes me to art galleries,” she continued, a dreamy smile gracing her lips. “We talk about philosophy, and he even remembers all the birthdays of my family.”
The words hung in the air, heavy with unspoken longing. I knew she was trying to tell me that this new man was everything I wasn't.
He was stable, reliable, the kind of guy parents approved of. I was, well, I was me – impulsive, unpredictable, a walking contradiction.
“He’s a good man, Y/N,” Hanni said, her hand reaching out to delicately brush away a stray strand of hair from my face.
The touch sent a jolt of electricity through me, but it was gone in an instant, replaced by a bitter pang of sadness.
“He deserves someone better than me,” I muttered, my gaze fixed on the flickering candle flame. The words were bitter, laced with self-recrimination.
I knew I had messed things up, had been reckless and self-absorbed. But I had loved her, truly loved her, with a fierce, unyielding passion that had ultimately consumed us both.
“Don’t say that,” Hanni said, her voice filled with a mixture of sadness and frustration. “You’re not a bad person, Y/N. You just… you made choices.”
“Choices that led me here,” I said, gesturing to the empty space between us.
“You do things to protect yourself,” she replied, her voice soft, almost a whisper.
“But in protecting myself, I lost the only thing that mattered,” I confessed, the words spilling out before I could stop them. The weight of my confession hung heavy in the air, thick with regret and unspoken desires.
“It wasn’t your fault, Y/N,” she said, her hand gently squeezing mine. The touch, so familiar yet so different now, sent a fresh wave of longing crashing over me.
“I know,” I said, my voice barely a whisper. “But it still feels like my fault.”
The silence stretched, filled only with the sound of the rain and the crackling of the candle flame. I knew I should leave. This wasn’t helping anyone, least of all me.
But something held me there, a desperate need to say something, anything, to bridge the chasm that had grown between us.
“Hanni, before you go… there’s something I need to tell you.” I took a deep breath, trying to steel myself for what I was about to say. “Even though everything is different now, even though you’re with him… I still wish…”
My voice cracked, choked by the emotions rising within me. I had been holding this back for so long, a secret kept locked inside my heart, a wish that had been slowly consuming me.
“I still wish we could have stayed together.” The words tumbled out, raw and unfiltered, confessions of a love that had never truly died.
Hanni’s eyes widened, and a flicker of something I couldn’t quite place crossed her face.
It was a mixture of sadness, longing, and maybe even a hint of what felt like… regret?
“I know,” she whispered, her voice laced with an emotion that mirrored my own. “I wish that too.”
And then, for a moment, we just sat there, the unspoken words hanging heavy in the air. The past, with all its intensity and pain, was a tangible presence between us.
We were both ghosts, shadows of who we once were, clinging to the remnants of a love that had burned itself out.
“But we can’t,” Hanni said, a tear tracing a path down her cheek. “We’re not who we were back then. And I’m not the same person anymore.”
“I know,” I said, a lump forming in my throat. “But… I still wish we could be.”
“I know,” she repeated, her voice filled with a painful resignation. “I wish it too.”
“This is my last wish, Hanni,” I said, my voice trembling. “That you’ll remember me, that you’ll remember our time together, even if it wasn’t happy, even if it ended badly.”
“I will,” Hanni said, her voice choked with emotion. She stood up, her eyes filled with tears.
“I’m sorry,” she apologized, her voice cracking. “I have to go.”
“I understand,” I said, my voice flat, devoid of any hope.
I watched as she walked towards the door, her silhouette fading into the darkness.
The rain continued to fall, a relentless downpour echoing the emotions swirling within me. It was over.
I was left alone, with only the flickering candle flame and the ghosts of our memories to keep me company.
The rain continued to fall, washing away the last vestiges of our love, leaving behind only a cold, empty space.
The silence was deafening.
It was my last wish, that she would remember me, that she would remember our time together, no matter how painful it was.
And as I sat there, alone with my heartache, I knew that even in the absence of her love, I would forever bear the mark of our shared history, a bittersweet reminder of a love that once burned bright but was now just an ember fading to ash.
