Matt stood at the door, his hands gripping the frame, the anger in his chest bubbling up with the frustration, the confusion; everything was crashing down on him, but it wasn’t just about the fight, it was the constant battle he’d been fighting in silence, and he couldn’t keep pretending it wasn’t hurting anymore.

“You don’t get it, do you?” he said, voice low but sharp. “I’ve been patient, I’ve been trying to understand, but you just keep shutting me out.” He paused, his jaw tightening. “Every time I try to get closer, you push me away. It’s exhausting.”

His gaze drifted to the floor, like he was trying to find the words that weren’t coming. He didn’t know how much longer he could keep doing this—the pretending, the hoping that things would change, but they never did. “I’m tired of this, of always being the one who’s trying, ilove you, but I can’t keep begging you to care, to show up.”

Matt shook his head, running a hand through his hair, frustration morphing into something deeper, something raw. “I’m not asking for much,” he muttered, more to himself than anyone else. “I’m not asking you to change, but hell... I can’t keep giving when you’re not even here.” He exhaled slowly, like the weight of everything he’d been holding onto was finally too much. “It’s like I’m invisible to you and I don’t know how much more of this I can take.”

For a moment, it felt like he was ready to walk away, he didn’t know if he could handle the silence, the emotional distance that kept growing between them, he thought he could keep fighting, but at that moment, he wasn’t sure anymore.

"I love you," he finally admitted, his voice barely a whisper. "But you're just like your father." His chest tightened as he realized how final those words sounded. He’d said everything, and yet it still felt like nothing had changed.