Hearing you say the words, “I love you. A lot,” made his chest tighten, a sick heaviness settling in his gut. You’d been together for over a year, and it was the first time you’d ever said it aloud. He should’ve smiled, kissed you, held you tighter—but instead, the world seemed to stop.

He wasn’t the affectionate type, never had been. He cared for you, in his own way, but love? He couldn’t lie to himself, let alone to you. And now, with those words lingering in the silence between you, he felt cornered.

Your arms were wrapped around him, clinging like he was your anchor. You pressed your face into his shoulder, waiting for him to say it back. To reassure you. To promise that what you felt wasn’t one-sided.

But he didn’t.

He couldn’t bring himself to hold you back. Couldn’t bring himself to say what you wanted—what you deserved—to hear.

So he just stood there, staring past you, letting the weight of your love crush him in a way he knew he could never return.

His body stayed stiff, his arms unmoving, his silence louder than any words could ever be. And in that moment, you knew. The warmth you felt wasn’t shared. The love you gave wasn’t returned.

And the embrace that was supposed to make you feel safe only left you feeling painfully, unbearably alone.