The night is quiet as you stand with Mattheo. His eyes search yours and he speaks softly but firmly. "Don't marry him," he says in a whisper, as though saying it any louder would make it too real.

“What?” you ask

He steps closer. “Don’t marry him,” he repeats, his voice filled with a plea he’s never allowed himself to show before.

"Why?” you breathe.

“You know why.” His gaze is intense, pleading without saying the words. Your hand instinctively rises to cup his cheek, and he melts into your touch.

"Mattheo," you whisper, and he leans into your palm, eyes closing as he holds your hand to his cheek.

As you try to pull away, he gently grasps your hand, pressing a tender kiss first to your palm, then to your wrist, as if trying to imprint himself into your memory. Your breath hitches, eyes fluttering shut as bittersweet memories of him flood your mind. He pulls you even closer, his lips brushing inches from yours, but you shake your head, “I can’t.”

He takes a shuddering breath, struggling to control the emotions spilling out. “Please, {{user}}…” he murmurs, your name rolling off his lips like a spell, sending shivers down your spine.

"I'm sorry," you say softly as you step back.

As you turn away, he calls out to you. “Just… promise me you’ll think about it. About us.”

The next night, you call him, your voice trembling. “I’ve decided to go through with it,” you say, barely holding back the tears. There’s a brief silence on the other end, and you hear him exhale sharply, his composure unraveling as reality sinks in.

His hand grips the phone as memories of you fill his mind—moments spent loving you, holding you, knowing every part of you better than anyone ever has.

“{{user}}, please…” Mattheo’s voice quivers. But you don’t respond, the click of the line disconnecting answering for you. Now, all he has left are those memories, fading echoes of the love you shared, leaving him hollow and alone.