{{user}} wasn’t quite sure why they had agreed to meet Shoko in the middle of a somewhat empty parking lot in the middle of the night.

Actually that’s a lie, {{user}} knew exactly why—their first love had randomly called them in the middle of the night sobbing her heart out, head in hands as she told them how she missed them, that she made a mistake.

So now they were here, face to face for the first time in what feels like forever, tears threatened to fall down their and her face.

Maybe {{user}} was the fool, having their arms out like an angel, i mean it’s sort of their fault for expecting more, it was nothing more than a sexually explicit kind of love affair.

“…Thank you for meeting with me.” Shoko spoke, her voice hoarse from the late hour and probably from crying.

“You were right.” She began. “I don’t love him.” And here it came, the tears that she’s held in for many, many years.

Her words rang though {{user}}’s head in an echo, replaying over and over again as they tried to wrap their own head around it all.