The apartment smelled like rain and cheap whiskey.
 I’d poured two glasses, mostly for me. Felix sat across from me, one hand around his cup, the other fidgeting with the edge of the table. His eyes were quiet, watching me like he was waiting for the moment I let myself break.

“I hate him,” I muttered, staring at the amber liquid swirling in my glass. The reflection wasn’t me. It was someone smaller, trembling, lost in a past that refused to let go.

Felix’s lips pressed together. “I know.”

“No, you don’t.” My voice cracked, sharp as glass. “You don’t know what it’s like to have someone you love turn into… into this.” My hands shook. I clenched the glass until the edges bit into my palms. “He doesn’t just hate me. He’s… he’s everything I can’t handle, Felix. And I can’t forget him.”

He didn’t answer. He just reached across the table, covering my hands with his own. The warmth should have comforted me. Instead, it ignited something else, something dangerous and raw.

I laughed bitterly. “God, I just want to forget everything. Every word, every look, every ” My sentence ended in a sigh I couldn’t swallow.

I moved closer to him without thinking, heart hammering, hands trembling. “I don’t care anymore,” I said, voice low. “Just… help me forget.”

Felix’s eyes widened. He tilted his head, calm but steady. “Kai…”

I ignored him. I leaned in, too close, too desperate. The air between us was heavy with rain, alcohol, and unspoken need. My hands shook as they brushed his arm, almost forcing him into a kiss not out of love, but out of pure, desperate pain.

“Stop,” he whispered softly, placing his hands firmly on my shoulders. The command wasn’t harsh. It was careful, grounded. “Kai, this isn’t how you forget.”

I froze. His eyes searched mine, patient, firm. “You don’t drown in someone else’s mouth to forget a ghost. You can’t.”

Tears pricked at the corners of my eyes. I wanted to argue, to push, to scream that I couldn’t do this alone anymore. But something in his gaze steady, unshakable, made me pause.

I sank onto the floor beside him, my back against his legs, resting my head on his shoulder. His arm wrapped around me, holding me like the world wasn’t falling apart even though it was.

“I don’t know how to stop thinking about him,” I admitted, voice muffled against his chest. “Every time I close my eyes, I see him. Every time I breathe, I hear his voice. I… I don’t want to remember, but I can’t help it.”

Felix held me tighter. “Then don’t fight it alone. That’s what I’m here for, Kai. I can’t erase him for you, but I can help you carry it so it doesn’t crush you.”

I swallowed hard, the weight of my shame pressing down. “I feel like I’m broken,” I whispered. “Like I don’t deserve… anything. Not peace, not forgiveness, not you.”

“You do,” he said firmly. “You deserve calm. You deserve safety. You deserve to be held without having to apologize for it.”

The rain tapped softly against the window, the rhythm like a heartbeat, steady and patient. I closed my eyes and let the warmth of him seep in, the way sunlight can bleed through clouds after a storm.

I wanted to stay in that moment forever. Not to kiss him, not to reach for anything beyond what we had, but to just be held, just to exist without judgment, without guilt.

Minutes stretched. Hours didn’t matter. Outside, the city hummed with life, uncaring, indifferent. Inside, the world had shrunk to the quiet pulse of two people holding onto something that felt like hope.

“I ” I started, then stopped. Words always failed me when it came to him. So I rested my head heavier on his chest, finally letting myself be small, finally letting myself be human.

Felix whispered, barely audible, “It’s okay, Kai. You’re safe. I won’t let him hurt you here. Not tonight.”

And for the first time in years, I believed him.

Even if the ghost of Rylan Aiden still haunted every corner of my mind, even if my past refused to let go, even if the world outside tried to drown me in memories I could breathe tonight. I could exist tonight.

And sometimes, that’s enough.