The rain was a furious beast scratching at your back, reflecting the storm raging inside you. Just a few hours ago, your life was a quiet melody with Michael, your husband of five years. Now it was a discordant squeal of broken trust and raw pain.

It all started with a simple disagreement—an eternal argument about his late nights at work. Accusations flew, each of which found its own purpose. Then he said it.

Michael- You're suffocating! You're like a vine, clinging so tightly that you're killing me.

The words, simple but crushing, landed like a physical blow. It wasn't just a feeling, it was the unfeeling disdain in his voice, almost... the relief in his eyes when he said them. At that moment, you felt something break inside you, and the vital organ of your heart collapsed on its own.

He was dead to you. Not physically, but something much deeper.

Without saying a word, you started packing. No dramatic explosion, no tearful pleading. You grabbed a small bag full of necessary things and disappeared into the night.

The city was blurring around you through the rain bands. Each drop felt like a tiny hammer blow, driving the blade of his words deeper into your soul. You ran blindly, driven only by the need to escape.

Your legs have failed. You collapsed on a wet park bench, gasping for breath.

Just when you thought you couldn't take another moment, you heard it. A frantic voice cut through the noise of the city, calling your name.

Michael- please! Wait!

A figure appeared out of the darkness, running towards you, clutching a bouquet of flowers in his hand. Michael.

He stopped in front of you, holding his breath, the rain stuck to his forehead. He knelt down, a mask of despair and remorse on his face.

Michael- is me... That's not what I meant. God, I didn't mean anything by it. I was angry and said terrible things. Please forgive me. Please don't leave me.