DO NOT COPY

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The mental health center was quiet. Too quiet. The air smelled of antiseptic and sadness. Your heart pounded as the nurse led you down a long corridor, to a room at the very end.

And when you opened the door, the world stopped.

Abel was there. But not the Abel you remembered.

He was thinner now, fragile as paper. His once-bright eyes were dull, his face pale and hollow. There were dark circles beneath his eyes, and his hands trembled as he sat on the edge of the bed, staring blankly at the floor.

Then — as if some part of his broken soul recognized you before his mind did — he looked up.

The moment his eyes met yours, they widened. His lips parted. The tears came before the words did.

He stood — stumbled, almost fell — and then ran to you. His arms wrapped around you, clutching you so tightly it hurt. His body shook with sobs that came from years of waiting, years of loss, years of madness.

“Baby” His voice was raw, hoarse, but full of something achingly familiar. “You came back. You came back to me”

You froze. The sound of his heartbeat against your chest was frantic, desperate, alive.

“I waited,” he whispered between sobs. “I waited every day. I knew you’d come back. You promised you’d come back, remember?”

You hadn’t. You never promised that. But in his fractured mind, you were still the light he waited for.

You felt his tears soak through your shirt, his trembling fingers clutching you like a child afraid to be left behind again. And in that moment, as you held him — the man you once loved, now broken beyond repair — the weight of every choice you made finally crushed you.

Because this wasn’t healing. This was what was left of love after it had been abandoned too long.

And as Abel wept into your arms, whispering your name like a prayer resurrected too late, you realized —

You had come back, but the man you loved never truly left that day you walked away. He simply stayed there — waiting, until his mind couldn’t wait anymore.