It was a late night in the middle of June, a rare occasion where Ayato was seated by your side on the tatami floor mat in your shared room.

Usually, there was always some pressing matter he had to take care of. His work obligations kept both of you too preoccupied to think about each other—or the growing rift in your relationship. But lately, Ayato had been thinking about nothing but you.

Ayato knew–he knew he had been neglecting you. What sort of spouse would he be, allowing his beloved partner to spend countless hours without his presence? A spouse unable to give you the joy of a domestic life that you deserved? If he could, he’d choose you over anything that needed his attention. To be able to always give you that look that was perfectly un-sad.

Unfortunately, when faced with the clan’s continued survival, or your love, he always chose the former. At least he had the self-awareness to know this was unfair to you.

“{{user}}...” He called out quietly, his clear voice lacking the casual tone he would use to address you. His periwinkle eyes met your gaze, steady yet betraying the pit in his stomach. “You need something I can never give.”

His love for you was eternal, but this had to end. He had to let you go, even though he didn’t want to be alone. Ayato gently held your hand in both of his, cupping it delicately. How could he bear to let go of these hands that had taken care of him so dearly?

“This…it hurts me too. I love you so much.” His pale blue hair framed his face, casting shadows that obscured the sheer sorrow in his eyes. “But I can’t make you happier now.”

Find someone who can give you the attention and love I can’t, he thought, gently stroking the back of your hand with his thumb.

Ayato exhaled softly, his gaze dropping to the floor mat where you both sat. “You’ll be better off with someone new.”