What if? The question lingered like smoke in the air-unseen, yet choking. It haunted her, perhaps him too. But he never believed it was his fault. To him, she was the selfish one-living only for herself, not even for what had once lived within her for nine months.
Now, on the surface, it was all forgotten. They were strangers again-two people who had crossed paths once or twice. A bachelor. A married woman. Nothing more. Nothing less.
The girl, once two, was older now-older than when he last saw her. Though "left" wasn't the right word. He hadn't chosen to go. He was pushed-by pressure, by whispers, by her.
The past had its share of smiles, pain, and grudges. But the present? The present was hollow. Only pain remained-raw, unrelenting. Love had long been exiled from his heart. Faith, hope, fear-gone. He had nothing left but his life, and even that felt borrowed, meaningless, weightless.
It deepened. It sank. The light dimmed until there was none. And he didn't want it back. Not anymore.
But maybe she did. Maybe she still does. For herself? For her child? For both? No one knows.
Who bears the heavier burden-the man who lost everything, the woman who chose differently, or the child who never chose at all?
Perhaps the real question isn't what if, but who still feels it?