Nathan sat on the edge of his narrow prison cot, staring at the envelope in his hands. His name was scrawled in familiar, delicate handwriting—Sarah's handwriting.
For a long time, he didn't move.
He had imagined this moment a thousand times, but now that it was real, he felt paralyzed. It had been nearly two years since the sentencing, nearly two years since he had last seen her.
And yet, here she was.
A letter.
From her.
His fingers trembled as he tore open the envelope, unfolding the neatly written pages inside. His heart pounded as his eyes darted over the first words.
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Nathan,
I don't know if you'll ever read this, or if you'll even care to. But I needed to write it. I needed to say what I never could when we last spoke.
I hate you for what you did.
I hate you for taking Lewis away from me.
I hate you for shattering my life in ways you'll never understand.
But I also hate that I don't truly hate you.
I've spent so long trying to erase you from my heart, from my memories, from my life. But no matter how much I try, you're still there. In the echoes of the past. In the nights I wake up screaming, haunted by the sight of Lewis on the floor, unmoving. In the questions that will never have answers.
Why, Nathan?
Why did it have to come to that?
Why couldn't you let me go?
You always told me you loved me. But love isn't supposed to destroy. It isn't supposed to kill.
And yet, despite everything, I can't deny that once upon a time, you were my best friend. You were the boy who made me laugh, who knew my favorite songs, who understood me in ways no one else did.
And that's why this hurts more than anything.
Because I don't just grieve Lewis.
I grieve you, too.
The Nathan I knew died that night as well.
I need to move on, Nathan. And I need you to know that I am trying.
I met someone.
David.
You probably don't remember him from high school, but he remembers me. And for the first time in a long time, I feel like I can breathe again.
I don't know why I'm telling you this. Maybe because deep down, I still care about you in some twisted way. Or maybe because part of me wants your permission to be happy.
But I know I don't need it.
I'm going to live, Nathan.
And I hope—despite everything—you find a way to do the same.
Goodbye, Nathan.
—Sarah
---
Nathan's hands clenched around the paper, his breathing uneven.
She was moving on.
She had found someone else.
A raw, guttural pain tore through him, so sharp it felt like a blade against his soul. He had lost her forever.
But wasn't that inevitable?
Hadn't he ensured this outcome the moment he let rage consume him?
His vision blurred as he reread the letter, the words searing into him.
She was right.
The Nathan she once loved was gone.
All that remained was a man trapped in the cage he built for himself—haunted, broken, and utterly alone.
And maybe that was exactly what he deserved.
He exhaled shakily, his fingers smoothing over the creases of the paper. A bitter laugh escaped his lips. This was what closure felt like, wasn't it? A cold, merciless blade carving through the last remnants of hope.
He thought about the past—about Sarah's laughter on summer nights, about the way she would sing off-key just to make him smile. He thought about the warmth of her hand in his, the way she once looked at him as if he was the only person in the world who truly mattered.
And he thought about the moment it all shattered.
Lewis on the floor. Sarah's screams. The blood. The chaos. The deafening silence that followed.
He had replayed that night a thousand times in his mind, searching for a different outcome, a different path. But no matter how many times he twisted the memory, it always ended the same way.
With loss. With ruin. With regret so thick it threatened to choke him.
Nathan pressed the letter to his forehead, his jaw clenched so tightly it ached. The weight of it all pressed down on him, an unbearable gravity he couldn't escape.
Sarah was free now.
She had found someone who wasn't a ghost of his own mistakes, someone who didn't carry the stain of what they had once been. She was choosing life, while he sat rotting in a cell, a prisoner of his own choices.
And yet, a part of him couldn't blame her. A part of him knew this was right.
She deserved happiness.
She deserved peace.
He had never given her that. Only pain. Only memories laced with sorrow.
The walls of his cell felt smaller, the air heavier. His heartbeat pounded in his ears as he closed his eyes, forcing back the burning in his throat.
This was the final severance, the last thread of what had once been them.
For the first time in two years, Nathan allowed himself to break.
Tears slipped down his face, silent, unrelenting.
And as they fell, so did the last illusions he had held onto.
Sarah was gone.
And no amount of remorse would ever bring her back.
---