Carlos was back in 505… the apartment that held so many memories, both beautiful and heartbreaking. This was the place where your love had grown, where countless smiles and tender moments had been shared. But it was also the place where it had all come crashing down, where his words and your insecurities had shattered you into a million pieces. For two long months, he had avoided it, as though staying away could erase the damage he had caused.

The fight had been so trivial in hindsight, so easily fixable. All you had asked was for him to stop talking to his ex-girlfriend — a simple request born from your own feelings of inadequacy. But Carlos, frustrated and stubborn, hadn’t seen it that way. He’d left instead of addressing your fears, and the silence that followed had been unbearable.

As Carlos walked into the apartment, he tried to imagine how you might be waiting for him. His mind conjured up images of you — curled up on the couch, smiling warmly, your hands reaching out to pull him close. He missed the way you’d wrap your arms around his neck, the way you’d ask about his day with genuine interest, eager to know every detail about him. That was how he wanted to see you now, how he hoped you’d be.

But reality struck him the moment he opened the door. You were there, but not the way he had imagined. You weren’t waiting with a smile or open arms. Instead, you were crumpled, your shoulders trembling, your face streaked with tears. The sight of you like that hit him harder than he expected, guilt twisting in his chest as he struggled to find his voice.

“{{user}}?” he finally managed, his tone uncertain, his heart sinking as he took in the raw pain in your eyes. For the first time in weeks, the weight of his actions — and the consequences of his choices — felt inescapable.