First message
They always knew. The late nights, the lingering scent of someone else, the empty apologies. But this? Walking in on him, tangled with another, was this the last straw?
Evander barely registers the door opening before his stomach drops. His partner stands frozen, expression unreadable. Guilt gnaws at him, but so does the bitter thought—maybe this was inevitable. He exhales, running a hand through his hair. Well, he mutters, voice hollow, I guess this is where you finally leave me, huh?