The echoes of laughter and music have faded, replaced by a heavy, suffocating silence.
The lights are still on, casting long shadows across the wooden floor.
Glasses and plates are scattered on the tables, remnants of a celebration that feels like it happened in another lifetime.
I’m sitting alone at the bar, staring at nothing.
My hands are resting on the counter, my knuckles white from gripping the edge.
I haven’t moved in what feels like hours.
I watch them leave.
One by one.
Diego, his shoulders slumped with guilt.
Sofia, her eyes red and swollen.
Carmen, her sharp face pale and drawn.
And Elena, walking out with a small, satisfied smile that makes my blood run cold.
They all left me here.
Alone in this empty clubhouse, drowning in the silence.
But I don’t care about them.
I don’t care about anyone.
All I can see is her.
Aitana.
I replay the moment over and over in my head.
The way she stood in front of me, her dress soaked through, her dark curls plastered to her face, her blue eyes blazing with pain and fury and something else.
Something I couldn’t name.
She told me she hated me.
She told me I was the worst of them all.
She told me I never saw her, never cared, never fought for her.
But then she said it.
Those words that cut through me like a blade.
“I still loved you.
I still wanted you to look at me.
I still wanted you to see me.” I feel my heart clench in my chest.
She loved me.
All those years.
All those moments.
All those fights and taunts and cruel words.
And she still loved me.
I was happy.
For just a moment, a fleeting, selfish moment, I was happy.
I heard her say she loved me, and everything else faded away.
The pain in her voice, the tears in her eyes, the betrayal on her face.
It all disappeared, replaced by the overwhelming, suffocating rush of knowing she felt the same way I did.
But then reality crashed back down.
She told me she loved me, and I said nothing.
She told me she hated me, and I said nothing.
She told me I was a coward, and I said nothing.
She told me I was dead to her, and I said nothing.
I push my hands through my hair, gripping the strands so tightly it hurts.
I want to scream.
I want to punch something.
I want to go back in time and do everything differently.
But I can’t.
I’m frozen.
Just like I was that night.
Just like I’ve always been.
“You always say nothing,” she said.
“When I needed you most, you said nothing.” She’s right.
She’s absolutely right.
I’ve always said nothing.
I’ve always stood there, paralyzed, watching her fall apart while I did nothing to catch her.
I think about my father.
His cold eyes.
His harsh words.
“Weakness is a disease, Leo.
Don’t show emotion.
Don’t let them see you bleed.
That’s how they get you.” I hear his voice in my head every time I want to speak.
Every time I want to reach out.
Every time I want to tell her how I really feel.
“You’ll never change, will you?” she said.
“You’ll never stand up for anyone.
You’ll never fight for anyone.
You’ll just stand there, frozen, watching the world burn.” I clench my fists, my nails digging into my palms.
The pain is sharp and grounding, but it doesn’t help.
Nothing helps.
She looked at me one last time.
Those blue eyes, filled with tears and pain and something that looked like goodbye.
And I just stood there.
Frozen.
Incapable of movement.
Incapable of speech.
Incapable of fighting for her.
“You’re all dead to me.” Her words echo in my skull like a gunshot.
She said those words to all of them.
But she looked at me when she said it.
She was looking at me, and she meant it.
She meant it.
I feel the tears burn in my eyes, hot and unfamiliar.
I haven’t cried since I was a boy.
My father beat that out of me.
“Men don’t cry, Leo.
Men don’t show weakness.
Men don’t feel.” But I feel.
I feel everything.
I feel the weight of her pain like it’s my own.
I feel the guilt crushing my chest like a vise.
I feel the terror of losing her forever.
I love her.
I’ve always loved her.
But I’ve never said it.
I’ve never shown it.
I’ve done nothing but push her away, torment her, hurt her.
And now she’s gone.
I think about the way she walked out of the clubhouse, her shoulders trembling.
She walked out into the rain, and I let her.
I let her go.
I could have stopped her.
I could have run after her.
I could have grabbed her wrist and told her everything.
But I didn’t.
I didn’t do anything.
I just stood there, frozen in place, watching the girl I love walk away.
I bury my face in my hands, my shoulders shaking.
The tears come, hot and fast and uncontrollable.
I hate myself.
I hate myself for being so weak, so pathetic, so incapable of fighting for the one person who matters most.
“You’ll never change, will you?” No, Aitana.
I won’t.
Because I’m frozen.
I’ve always been frozen.
And I don’t know how to thaw.
I stare at the empty doorway where she disappeared.
The rain is still pouring outside, drumming against the windows like a heartbeat.
The world is quiet and cold and dark.
I think about all the moments I missed.
All the chances I threw away.
All the words I never said.
I love you, Aitana.
I’ve always loved you.
I was just too scared to say it.
The guilt will haunt me forever.