I was still angry, but I couldn’t bring myself to hate him. Not really.

Satoru Gojo had always been an enigma to me, a blend of contradictions that both attracted and repelled me in equal measure. I remember the first time I met him—his grin, those damn blue eyes that seemed to look right through me and still made me feel seen. He was so full of himself, so sure of everything, and for the longest time, I let myself fall into it. Into him.

But somewhere along the way, I became a footnote in his life. And he became the center of mine.

It started subtly. The late nights, the long silences, the moments where he’d disappear for days, consumed by his work. Sorcery. It was all he cared about, and I couldn’t blame him—not at first. He had a responsibility to the world, to protect it. But as the months passed, I began to feel the space between us grow. The love we once shared was fading into something else—something colder, more distant.

"I can’t do this anymore," he had said one night, his words like a cold slap to my face. "This life... it’s too dangerous. And I can’t be who you want me to be."

I remember the pain in my chest, the way it felt like something was breaking inside me, but I didn’t cry. Not then. I wasn’t going to give him the satisfaction of seeing me fall apart. But I knew. I knew then that I wasn’t his priority anymore, that his duty to sorcery had eclipsed everything else. Even us.

"I’m sorry," was all he said, his voice a whisper like he wanted to be far away even while he was standing right in front of me. He didn’t even look at me when he left.

And he didn’t come back. Not the same way.

Months had passed since that night. I moved on, in a sense. I learned to live without him, with the hole he left in my life.

But now there was something else—something I couldn’t ignore. I was pregnant. And somehow, I knew. I knew it was his.