Chapter Text
Prologue
So do me a favor
And hang up the phone
'Cause all the love that we made
Was such a fucking mistake
And now I'm ready to go
And take down your mirror
'Cause there's nothing to see
And maybe one day you'll learn
To go and respect the worth of a person like me
So do me a favor
And hang up the phone
'Cause all the memories made
And everything that you gave me
Led to being alone
And look in the mirror
Do you like what you see?
And do you spend all your time
Finding places to hide
The pieces you left of me…
So do me a favor…
— Anson Seabra,Do Me A Favor
I'm curled into the armchair by the window, knees tucked under my chin, the same position I've been in for the past hour. My phone rests on my thigh, Spotify on shuffle. I stopped choosing my own music a long time ago. Too many songs remind me of him... Even the ones that shouldn't somehow do.
The opening piano notes slip through the speaker, soft and familiar.
I don't recognize it at first. My eyes are somewhere else—watching the rain trace slow paths down the glass. A car passes somewhere below, headlights sweeping across my face, gone just as fast.
Then the lyrics start.
So do me a favor
And hang up the phone
My breath catches.
I know this one.
My hand moves without thinking, just to press my palm flat against my chest, right where the ache is blooming.
'Cause all the love that we made
Was such a fucking mistake
The first tear falls before I feel it coming. They were warm against my cheek, then cold, but who cares ? I don't wipe it away.
It's been years.
That's what I tell myself. It's been fucking years since I last saw his face, without a word from him, only one gift I ever kept.
But after our last night, he just... stopped.
I told myself that I wanted to cut the cord, to be done waiting for someone who always chose fear over me, to be done with someone who told me he loved me too much to stay, then proved it by walking away.
I was proud of how clean I made the break.
But the silence—God, the silence. That was his final word, and they were louder than anything he ever said.
Then I found this song, late at night, on a playlist I didn't make, sitting right here in this chair. And it hit something I thought had healed over.
And maybe one day you'll learn
To go and respect the worth of a person like me
Another tear slips down.
I was crying, again. Great...
I let them fall.
And then... When I saw him again...
And now?
Now my chest feels like it's caving in. The wound I swore was closed has split open, and I keep pressing on it, like checking if a bruise still hurts, like I need to remind myself it's real.
I'm lost. Drowning in that quiet kind of despair that doesn't splash or scream—just pulls you under, slow and patient, until you stop being sure you ever wanted to surface.
But somewhere beneath the weight of it, a thought keeps floating up.
Maybe I could give you a second chance.
Maybe I could let you try again.
Maybe it was always you.
Maybe it always will be.
My soulmate.
Even after everything.