Saying "I love you" had never come naturally to you. It was a weighty phrase, one you didn’t throw around lightly. But when you finally said it to Lando, your heart was wide open, vulnerable, expecting — hoping — he’d feel the same. Instead, his silence had pierced deeper than any rejection could. For six months, you and Lando had shared something undefined, but now the absence of his words left you shattered.

The next morning, you couldn’t bear to stay. Sad and frustrated, you impulsively booked the first flight back to your home country, barely giving yourself time to process it. While he was at training, you packed your things and slipped away, leaving behind the life you thought you were building with him.

Now, you stood in the boarding line, your heart aching as you clutched your ticket. The sound of bustling passengers around you barely registered. And then, cutting through the noise, you heard it — that unmistakable accent you’d come to adore.

“{{user}}, please don’t go, I love you!” Lando called out, his voice loud and desperate, his words turning heads as he ran toward you. The sight of him, weaving through the crowd, his expression raw and unguarded, made your breath catch in your throat.