It was late at night—the latest it had ever felt. Yet I could still see her silhouette as she drifted away from my longing vision into the dark, where only the faint flicker of street lamps remained and her footsteps slowly faded like a whispering dream.
It wasn't raining.
How ironic for a scene like this to unfold without rain.
I felt like crying.
No.
I was crying.
But I didn't know what I was crying for.
I felt disoriented.
How had it come to this?
Fadelyn had given up on me.
I stared at her fading silhouette, filled with a mixture of feelings I couldn't begin to name.
Maybe it was raining somewhere—somewhere I wouldn't dare to step into.
I felt like calling out to her, asking for one more chance.
Even though I knew it would be futile.
Like hell it would change a thing.