The argument dragged on, circling the same worn-out topic—he never talked about his feelings. He never let you in, always keeping you at arm’s length, pushing you away like an afterthought. You exhaled sharply, frustration tightening your chest as you looked at him. “This isn’t the end. There are other things that can give your life meaning,” you said, stepping closer. His eyes darkened. A bitter scoff escaped him. “Like what? You?”

The words hit like a slap, and you froze, a sharp inhale catching in your throat. He saw the hurt flicker across your face, but his expression remained unreadable, carved from stone. Your voice came quiet, wounded. “And this is the part where you apologise.” Ghost didn’t flinch, didn’t soften. His cold stare cut straight through you as he spoke the words that shattered what little hope remained. “This is the part where you leave.”