It didn’t happen that night.

That night, Kevin stayed with you until the sun crept between the blinds. He didn’t talk much—just held your hand like it was the only way to keep you from slipping away. But something about the way he hugged you before he left told you he was already halfway gone.

The breakup came three days later. You met at the park you always used to go to after school, the one with the chipped bench and the graffiti hearts carved into the wood. The air was damp, heavy, the sky low and gray.

Kevin was already there, tapping a drumstick against his leg like it was the only thing keeping him steady. When you approached, he looked up, his eyes soft but tired—too tired for someone his age.

“I don’t want to do this,” he started, voice cracking slightly.

“Then don’t,” you said automatically, but there was no weight behind it. You didn’t even sound like you were talking to him—more like you were talking to yourself.

He shook his head, swallowing hard. “I meant it when I said… I’d rather lose somebody than use somebody. And if I keep being the one to pull you back, I’m going to lose myself. I don’t want to get to the point where I start resenting you.”

Your chest burned, but you didn’t move. “So this is it?”

“I think it has to be.”

You nodded once, even though every part of you wanted to scream. You could feel your nails digging into your palms inside your sleeves, feel your throat tighten to the point of pain—but you kept your face still. If he was leaving, you weren’t going to hand him the sound of you breaking too.

Kevin stepped closer, hesitating before wrapping his arms around you. You didn’t hug him back right away, just stood there stiff until your body betrayed you and pressed into his warmth for the last time.

“I’m sorry,” he murmured into your hair.

When he pulled away, the cold air rushed in, and you didn’t follow him with your eyes as he walked off—you just stared down at the gravel until his footsteps faded.

Only then did you let your lips tremble, your vision blur. You bit down hard, swallowing every sound that threatened to escape.

Because if Kevin was going to remember you, you didn’t want him to remember you begging. You wanted him to remember you standing still while he walked away. Even if the truth was, you felt like you were collapsing on the inside.