My breath got stuck in my throat.
He held me like he wanted to merge us into one, like he wanted to rip my heart out of my chest, to crack it and use my broken pieces to fill in the empty spots in his own heart.
That’s what losing someone felt like. Not broken, not scared, but pure desperation of finding something to fill in those empty spaces, to stop them from pouring down with blood—to prevent the cracking and breaking and leaving us emptier than we already were.
Christian’s hand dug themselves through my hair, keeping me close to him.
I kept my arms around his neck, not caring about how people were staring at us. This moment was for him, for all the memories with his mom he’d never get back.
“Adelaide,” I held onto him tighter when his broken sobs hiccupped into my shirt.
My own voice broke with sobs when I replied, “I’m here.”
We held each other like that until the sun fell to its feet and people disappeared.
He pulled away, his eyes rimmed red.
I cupped his face, wiping away the fallen tear, when he pushed my hand away.
“Christian,” I took a step towards him, but he moved back, raising his palm up in front of me.
I halted.
Emotionless. “I can’t do this anymore, Adelaide.”
I grappled with the feeling of shattered glass in my chest, each shard sticking to a vein. Heartbreak poured out from each rip, disconnecting me from myself.
“You don’t mean that.” He was full of grief. It was normal to pull away. “It’s okay.”
An emotionless chuckle.
“You’re kidding right?”
He ran a hand through his hair, tears falling down his cheeks. “I don’t want to be with you anymore, Adelaide.”
“Christian, you just lost your mom. Your emotions are heightened?—”
“Stop making fucking excuses when we were going down this path anyways.”
Thunder rumbled.
“What are you talking about?”
“You didn’t think this,” he pointed back and forth between us. “Was gonna last, right?”
I didn’t answer.
“Adelaide, you’re not the girl I’m going to marry. You were never gonna be that girl for me. You were just an experiment for me. To use. Tofuck.”
I flinched at his words, putting more distance between us even though everything he was saying did a good enough job of that.
“You want to break up? Right now?” I looked down at Eunbin’s grave between us. If she was listening, she’d be clawing her nails at the coffin—begging to be let out, to crack Christian’s head open and fill it with common sense.
“I’ve wanted to break up for a long time.”
We stared at each other.
Sobs racketed through my chest when I said, “You don’t mean it.”
