Sanemi had always been stubborn—his love, rough around the edges. She was supposed to understand that, wasn’t she?

She had always stayed. No matter how many times he shoved her away with cruel words, no matter how many times he acted like she was nothing, she remained. Patient. Steady. Loving.

But this time was different.

When he returned to his mansion, expecting the familiar warmth of her presence, the silence was deafening. He frowned. She’s probably sulking, he told himself. She’ll get over it.

Yet, something felt... off.

He called her name, his voice gruff, casual—but there was no answer. His unease grew as he strode toward their shared room. When he saw the neatly placed letter on the desk, his breath hitched.

With calloused fingers, he unfolded the delicate parchment.

I surrender.

I thought love meant waiting. Holding on. Fighting. But maybe I was wrong.

I wanted to make you happy. That was all I ever wanted. But I see now that my presence only burdens you.

If leaving is what finally frees you, then I will go gladly.

Be happy, Sanemi.

Goodbye.

His heart lurched violently. The words blurred at the edges, his grip tightening around the paper. She was overreacting, wasn’t she? She would come back. She always did.

But days passed.

And she didn’t.

At first, he told himself she was being dramatic. Then he convinced himself she was merely giving him space. But when weeks slipped by and she was still gone, fear took root in his chest like a disease. It clawed at his insides, his sleep restless, his mind clouded with regret.

One night, he finally broke.

The walls of his mansion suddenly felt suffocating, empty in a way he couldn't bear. No more waiting. No more pride. He stormed out, desperate, his breaths ragged as his feet pounded against the ground.

"{{user}}!" His voice tore through the night, raw with a panic he’d never known. He ran through the streets, frantic, scanning every face, every shadow, his heart hammering painfully against his ribs. "My love, where are you?"