Content Warning

This chapter contains intense emotional confrontation, implicit self-destructive ideation (non-graphic), and deep guilt. Reader discretion is advised.

Noah swallowed with difficulty. His hands were sweating, and his chest burned as if he couldn’t get enough air. It had never crossed his mind to hurt Sebastian —much less to provoke such a violent reaction. He tried to apologize again and again, but his boss was far too furious to listen.

“I really am sorry,” he said, his voice breaking. “I don’t remember what happened in high school. I’m not lying to you about my amnesia. I can prove it… there are medical reports. I had an accident years ago. I was driving and a truck crashed into my car. I don’t remember exactly what happened, but it affected my memories.”

Sebastian closed his eyes, jaw clenched. When he opened them again, his gaze was cold, almost threatening.

“SHUT UP!” he ordered.

The word landed like a blunt blow.

“I don’t want your pity!” he shouted. “I don’t want your damn pity. Get out!”

Noah lowered his gaze. He saw the destroyed gifts on the floor and then Sebastian, and he understood that the few chances he had left to redeem himself had vanished. He blamed himself for everything. His self-worth collapsed once more to an unrecognizable point.

He clenched his fists tightly.

“I’m sorry,” he said one last time. “I won’t hurt you again.”

And he left the office without looking back.

Sebastian remained motionless as the door closed. Then he looked down. The small smartwatch box was broken; the screen shattered. He sank into his chair, holding it between his fingers, realizing he couldn’t control what Noah awakened in him.

Noah returned to his cubicle. His coworkers watched him with a mix of curiosity and morbid interest; the whispers were inevitable. Some said he had broken Sebastian’s heart again. Others said he deserved everything because of the bullying in the past. It seemed everyone knew his story… everyone except him.

He didn’t consider himself a sensitive man. He had always tried to appear serious, professional. Even so, tears gathered in his eyes. He wiped them away roughly and wrote his resignation letter by hand, leaving it on the desk.

He didn’t look at anyone as he stood up. He took the elevator and left the building, determined never to return.

He walked for hours through unfamiliar streets. Confusion devoured him: anger, sadness, guilt. Had he damaged Sebastian from such a young age that he turned him into someone ruled by resentment? To the point of destroying himself?

He repeated to himself over and over that he had never wanted to hurt him, but he didn’t know how to get close without causing more damage.

Meanwhile, Sebastian was still sitting at his desk, staring at the broken watch. Damien’s voice echoed in his head: Don’t trust him. He began to believe him.

But then he saw the shirt. The gloves. His favorite color.

And he understood that he had gone too far.

He called his secretary and canceled an afternoon meeting. He left the office without caring who saw him, went straight to Noah’s cubicle, and there —hands trembling— read his resignation letter. Without thinking twice, he headed to the elevator. He had searched for Noah for years. It had been Damien who gave him his whereabouts. He couldn’t lose him like this.

He called his phone several times; his former classmate didn’t answer.

On the street, Nicholas —who was talking with a colleague— saw Sebastian pass by with a distorted expression. Without knowing why, he was certain Noah was involved and decided to follow him at a distance.

***

Night fell.

Noah entered a bar. He didn’t want to lose control, only to silence the noise in his head. He drank a couple of beers. Nothing more. Since the accident, he avoided alcohol.

An hour later, he left and walked to a park. He sat on a bench, his feet aching, watching people pass by. He thought about talking to his mother. Maybe she could help him remember.

Then he saw the pedestrian bridge.

He wasn’t someone with suicidal thoughts. But guilt, the feeling of not being enough, of not being able to repair the damage, pushed him toward it.

He climbed up slowly and leaned against the edge, looking down.

He didn’t want Sebastian to think he was a bad person. If he had broken his heart, he at least wanted to try to be his friend. But he knew the hatred seemed insurmountable.

An hour later, his now former boss found him there, saw him lingering on that bridge—and thought the worst.

“Noah!” he shouted, his voice breaking.

He ran toward him, arms outstretched, pleading.

“Don’t lean like that. Please. Have you been drinking? Come with me.”

Noah, dizzy, laughed bitterly.

“You were never happy because of me,” he said. “And you never will be. I hurt you in a way I can’t repair.”

Sebastian stepped closer, trembling.

“That’s not true,” he replied. “Do you think I would have looked for you all these years if you meant nothing to me?”

Noah looked at him, stunned.

“You… looked for me?”

He nodded, with difficulty.

Noah then confessed something he had kept hidden for years: he had been bullied in college, because of false rumors about his good grades; he was about to be expelled; he drank and drove. The accident came after. Saying it out loud, the memories of high school began to fall into place.

“I don’t understand why you’re still here,” he murmured. “I don’t deserve it.”

Sebastian stepped close enough to surround him without touching him.

“I didn’t deserve what I did to you either,” he admitted. “But without you… my revenge makes no sense.”

He didn’t say that his life wouldn’t either.

But Noah reflected on his words.

Both of them remained suspended in the same silence, on the edge of something that could no longer be called just hatred.