They sat across from each other in the living room, the silence between them heavy and suffocating. He looked at Diane like he was trying to memorize her face, as if he already knew this would be the last time he saw her.
"I'm sorry," he said finally, his voice cracking. "For everything. For hurting you. For leaving."
Diane crossed her arms over her chest, trying to hold herself together. The sound of his voice was both a comfort and a dagger, cutting through her resolve.
"Why now?" Diane asked, her voice trembling. "Why are you here now, after everything?"
He didn't answer right away. Instead, he looked down at his hands, his shoulders slumping under the weight of the silence.
"Because I can't stop thinking about you," he said eventually. "I thought leaving was the right thing to do, but it wasn't. I've been miserable without you."
Diane chest ached at his words, at the vulnerability in his eyes. But she couldn't ignore the pain he had caused, the nights she had spent crying into her pillow.
"You don't get to do this," she said, her voice breaking. "You don't get to break me and then come back like nothing happened."