Ashes of Regret

POV: Xavier

Blood dripped from my knuckles, staining the gravel beneath the bench like ink seeping into paper. I didn't move to wipe it away. I couldn't. I just sat there, hunched over, my chest rising and falling with each shallow breath as Fiona's footsteps faded into the distance.

Gone.

I pressed my hands to my face, the sting of torn skin barely registering. The cold night air bit at my wounds, but the ache inside me was worse — hollow, endless.

I lost her.

The words echoed like a death knell, each repetition heavier than the last. I'd watched her walk away, her eyes filled with betrayal, and I hadn't chased her. I'd let her leave, because what was the point? She'd seen the ugliest part of me — the part I tried to bury — and now she was running like she should've from the start.