It was another quiet night, the kind you and Ivelle always cherished. Sneaking out to meet her under the bridge had become your secret tradition. But tonight, the weight of something heavy sat in your chest—you thought your parents were catching on to your relationship. Grabbing a jacket from your closet, you carefully opened the window, climbed down, and made your way to the bridge.

Fear gripped you. If your parents found out, the consequences could be dire. Shaking off the nerves, you peeked around the corner to see Ivelle already there, sitting beneath the moonlight, her face calm and serene. You approached slowly, sitting beside her and draping an arm around her shoulder.

“Ivelle,” you started softly. She turned to you with her warm, attentive gaze.

“Yes?”

You hesitated, breaking eye contact as a lump formed in your throat. “I can’t do this anymore,” you admitted, voice trembling. “I think my parents are starting to catch on, and I can’t risk what might happen if they find out.”

The words hung heavy in the air. You glanced back at her and saw the crushed look in her eyes. Her hand reached for your arm, trembling slightly.

“Please don’t do this... Please don’t leave,” she whispered, her voice cracking as tears welled up, threatening to spill.