Nathan inhaled deeply as he stepped past the prison gates, the world stretching out before him in stark contrast to the cold steel and concrete that had confined him for years. The sunlight felt strange on his skin, almost intrusive, like it didn't belong to him anymore. His boots scraped against the pavement as he hesitated, taking in the unfamiliar sight of freedom.
He was out.
But it didn't feel like freedom.
The air smelled different, cleaner, filled with life. People moved around outside the fence, unaware of the storm inside him. Cars zipped past on the highway, a reminder of the speed at which the world moved while he had been frozen in time. He turned slightly, his stomach twisting when he realized no one was waiting for him.
No family. No friends.
And Sarah…
Sarah was married now.
Nathan clenched his jaw, pushing the thought away. He had known this day would come, but the reality of it settled in his chest like a heavy stone. It was one thing to imagine her moving on; it was another to know she had.
He adjusted the strap of the small bag slung over his shoulder—the only belongings he had left. With a deep breath, he started walking.
---
The bus ride back home was uneventful, but Nathan couldn't shake the feeling of being out of place.
People chatted around him, their voices blending into a background hum he couldn't connect to. He kept his gaze fixed out the window, watching the world blur past in shades of green and gray. The town he once knew was still there, yet it had changed. New buildings stood where old ones had crumbled, and even the streets seemed unfamiliar.
The last time he had been here, he was a different man—a man who had loved recklessly, envied deeply, and lost everything in a single night.
Now, he wasn't sure who he was.
His thoughts spiraled back to Lewis, the brother he had taken from this world. He could still hear the sickening crack, see the lifeless way Lewis had crumpled to the ground.
His hands clenched into fists.
His own brother.
Nathan shut his eyes, willing the memories away, but they clung to him like ghosts, whispering in his ears.
You did this.
You stole his future.
The bus pulled to a stop, jolting him from his thoughts.
Home.
Or what was left of it.
---
Nathan had nowhere to go.
His parents had sold the house after Lewis's death, unable to live in the space that held too many painful memories. They had visited him in prison for the first year, but eventually, the visits stopped. He didn't blame them.
After checking into a cheap motel on the outskirts of town, he sat on the bed, staring at the peeling wallpaper. The silence was overwhelming.
Prison had given him structure—wake up, work, eat, sleep. Now, there was nothing but time.
And time was dangerous.
His phone buzzed on the nightstand, snapping him from his thoughts.
A number he didn't recognize.
He hesitated, then answered. "Hello?"
"Nathan."
His breath hitched.
Sarah.
---
He hadn't heard her voice in years.
Soft. Familiar. Painful.
His fingers tightened around the phone.
"Nathan, I…" She hesitated. "I heard you were released today."
He exhaled slowly. "Yeah."
A pause. "How are you?"
A dry chuckle escaped him. "I just got out of prison, Sarah. How do you think I am?"
She sighed. "I didn't mean it like that."
Silence stretched between them, thick with words neither of them could say.
"I saw you," she finally said. "At the wedding."
Nathan's grip on the phone tightened.
"I wasn't sure if you would come," she continued. "But… I'm glad you did."
He let out a bitter laugh. "Why?"
Sarah hesitated, and when she spoke, her voice was softer. "Because… it meant that after everything, you still cared."
A sharp ache burned in his chest.
"Of course, I cared," he said, his voice low. "That was never the problem, Sarah."
Another silence.
Then, almost in a whisper, she said, "I miss you."
Nathan squeezed his eyes shut. "Don't," he warned.
"I do."
He shook his head. "You're married now."
"I know," she whispered. "But that doesn't change what we were."
A long pause.
Nathan exhaled, running a hand through his short-cropped hair. "Sarah… we can't do this."
Another silence.
Then, her voice, almost breaking: "I just needed to hear your voice."
Nathan clenched his jaw. He wanted to say so much, but he couldn't. He wouldn't.
"You shouldn't call me," he said finally, his voice hollow.
Sarah was quiet for a long moment. Then, softly, "Goodbye, Nathan."
The line went dead.
Nathan sat there, the phone still pressed to his ear, his heart pounding.
He was free.
But peace?
Peace was something he would never have.
---