The door’s echo thundered in his ears as it slammed shut, sealing his fate. Hector, a statue of despair, stood there with his eyes closed, his hand clenched around the doorknob, his breath echoing in the silence. As he opened his eyes, tears cascaded down his face, each a silent witness to the tempest raging within. It was the end of everything he held dear. All he had left were shattered dreams and an unceasing love burning inside him. His head hung low, like a wilting flower, unable to escape the harsh reality of his hurtful words to Skye. He ached for the solace of delusion, for the sweet lie that this was but a nightmare, and when he woke up, none of this would have transpired, and Skye would be sleeping peacefully in his embrace.His grip on the doorknob tightened —a lifeline to the past he yearned to rewrite. To storm back, face Skye, and swallow his venomous words of anger, wounded pride, and broken heart.But pride still held him captive; he refused to grant her the victory

"H-Hector?" Skye's voice faltered, her heart a drumbeat in her ears."Yes, it's me." his voice was steady, his eyes locked in hers, causing her heart rate to soar. A silent storm brewed in their depths.His changed gaze puzzled her, yet it elicited the same inner pleasant disturbance she felt when he looked at her before all that happened, which alienated them. It evoked memories of when his eyes were a haven of sweetness and light.She had forced her mind to erase the memory of the beauty of that look, and now it felt like the first time, both foreign and achingly familiar.What was unfolding with the man before her?When she saw him standing at her door, she thought he had come to mock her again or to say cruel words, poised on his tongue, ready to be hurled at her like daggers as a goodbye.Their history was a tapestry of misunderstandings and barbed exchanges, a pattern they seemed doomed to repeat.She had braced for mockery and bitter parting words hurled like stones, but the r