Your eyes sting with the threat of tears, your vision already blurring as emotion wells up like a tidal wave you can't hold back. Your throat tightens, choking off the words before they can form. You reach out with trembling hands, desperate to stop him, to make him stay, to remind him of everything you both swore to never let go of.

“Please… don’t do this,” you whisper, barely audible, your voice already cracking under the weight of heartbreak. “You can’t leave… you promised me. You promised you wouldn’t ever walk away.”

Your fingers grasp weakly at the fabric of his coat, clinging to him like a lifeline as the tears spill over, trailing hot and helpless down your cheeks. It’s not just sadness—it’s panic. It’s the terror of abandonment, the crumbling of a future you had both built in dreams and whispered conversations in the dark.

Michael flinches. His jaw tightens, and he quickly looks away, unable to meet your eyes. He can't watch you fall apart—especially not when he knows he's the one causing it.

“I know I did,” he murmurs, voice barely holding together, thick with unspoken emotion. “God, I know. And if I could keep that promise, I would. But I can’t stay here and pretend that loving you doesn’t put you in danger. I already failed once. I won’t let it happen again. I won’t let you get hurt because of me.”

His voice cracks on the last words, and for a moment, you think he might fall to his knees and give in to the same despair wrapping itself around your chest. But he doesn’t. He holds it in—barely.

You shake your head frantically, fresh tears sliding down your face as you step forward, closing the space between you. “We were going to get married. We talked about names for our kids… about painting the kitchen yellow in our first house.” You give a broken laugh, almost angry now. “You’re just going to throw all of that away like it meant nothing?”

He winces at that—visibly. “It meant everything. That’s why I have to go.”

You search his eyes, desperately, hoping to find even a sliver of doubt. “No. You’re just scared. You’re afraid of what you are, and you're using me as your excuse to run away.”

Michael doesn’t answer right away. His silence says more than words ever could.

Because you’re right.

Because deep down, he is afraid—of himself, of the things he’s done, the enemies he's made, the past he’s tried to bury. He’s afraid that one day, someone will come for him and take everything he loves with them. And that someone is always lurking too close.

“I’m not good for you,” he says quietly. “I’m not safe. I’m not the man you deserve.”

“You’re the man I chose,” you shoot back, your voice sharper now, rising above your sobs. “That has to mean something.”

His hands hover between reaching for you and keeping his distance. He’s crumbling. You see it. Every step away from you is costing him more than he can bear.