The parking lot was nearly empty, the echo of Buck’s boots hitting the pavement filling the heavy silence between you. Streetlights buzzed overhead, casting a bluish hue over both of your faces, but it did nothing to cool the heat rising between you.

“You left,” you said first, jaw tight. “You didn’t even say goodbye, Buck.”

Buck looked away, running a hand over the back of his neck. “I didn’t know how to say goodbye,” he muttered. “It wasn’t supposed to go like that.”

Your laugh was bitter. “Yeah? What was it supposed to be then, Buck? Because you can't seem to let me go, and you sure as hell can't seem to keep me close either.”

He stepped toward you, his voice rising. “You think I wanted to leave? You think I meant to hurt you?”

“Then why did you?” you snapped. “Why does it feel like I’m always the one bleeding while you're the one running?”

His expression cracked, pain surfacing in the corner of his eyes. “You know I didn’t mean it, though. You know I didn’t.”

“Then say it!” you yelled. “Tell me where you’ve been, Buck. Tell me why you disappeared. Tell me why it still feels like you’re here when you’re not—like you're haunting me.”

“I didn’t know how to stay,” he whispered. “I thought walking away would make it easier for both of us.”

You scoffed, stepping back, but he reached out, hand hesitant, trembling, and caught your wrist.

“Just… hold me close,” he said, barely audible. “Please.”