𝑻𝑯𝑬 𝑩𝑹𝑶𝑲𝑬𝑵 𝑽𝑶𝑾 𝑫𝑼𝑬𝑻 - 𝑷𝑨𝑹𝑻 𝑶𝑵𝑬
Their love was never meant to be gentle. But it was never meant to break them, either.
──── ⋆⋅ ⚰︎ ⋅⋆ ────
𝒥𝓊𝒶𝓃 𝒞𝓇𝓊𝓏, a 21-year-old with a sharp tongue and an insatiable appetite for ple...
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"Juan", I hear him whispering.
My smile falters, crumbling beneath the sudden ache that grips my chest. A year. God, it's been an entire year — a year of aching silence, of sleepless nights spent chasing shadows that looked like him. And now, as if the universe has stopped just for this moment, I slowly turn.
There he is.
Time hasn't been kind. He's thinner, his face drawn, weariness carved into every angle. But those eyes . . . those damn eyes. They haven't changed. One look, and everything I've buried comes flooding back. The laughter, the pain, the way he used to say my name like a promise.
Our eyes lock, and for a breathless second, the world vanishes. I want to run. I want to scream. But all I can do is stand there, breaking all over again.
He takes a step toward me, and before I can stop myself, I retreat — one small step back that feels like a betrayal. The flicker in his eyes is immediate. Shock. Hurt. It cuts through me sharper than any blade, and regret slams into my chest so hard I almost stumble.
"Y—you . . . you work here? This is . . . your new job?" His voice is a strange, tangled thing — part disbelief, part wonder, twisted through with something unspoken. He's smiling, just barely, but it's laced with fear as if seeing me again is both the best and most terrifying thing that's happened to him in a long, long time.
"No"
His brows knit together. "What do you mean?"
"It's my restaurant", I say, steadying my voice, forcing a confidence I may not fully feel but should. "I'm the owner"
His eyes widen. "Really?!" The smile that blooms on his face is bright, unguarded.
God. That smile. That stupid, beautiful smile I've missed more than I should. No. No, I can't go there.
"Yes", I answer, my tone now cold steel. "And now . . . leave"
The light drains from his face, and the knife twists because I put it there.
"I wanted to talk to you", he says softly.
"You what?" The bitter laugh rips out of me before I can stop it. "You want to talk to me? About what? What the fuck do you want from me?"
"Juan, por favor—"
"Leave. I don't want to see you"
"Please, just—"
"Carlos, no!" The words are a shout now, cracking under the weight of everything I've held in. "One year. One fucking year"