Vincent sat frozen in the hospital waiting room long after Jules walked away. The fluorescent lights above buzzed faintly, but everything else felt distant. His breath slowed, not with peace, but with resignation. The sting of rejection wasn’t what hurt most—it was the truth that came with it.
For the first time, he saw his cowardice for what it was. Not youthful confusion. Not fear. Just selfishness, plain and sharp. He hadn’t left because he couldn’t stay—he left because it was easier. Easier to vanish than to become someone worthy of staying.