Andrew's expression sagged as he exhaled a long breath. There was defeat in the way his shoulders dropped, a quiet acceptance settling into him even though the words clearly hurt.
Seamus clasped his hands together and leaned forward. "But that doesn't mean I don't care about you."
Andrew's gaze lifted with a small, fragile hope. "Really?"
Seamus nodded. "I kind of hated admitting it. I should have hated you completely, and I do, in a way, but I still care. And I am scared you will die and I will regret everything."
He rubbed his forehead, voice dropping. "It feels like the whole thing is eating me alive."
Silence settled between them with a weight that pushed the air down. Each drifted into their own thoughts, replaying mistakes, missed chances, and all the things they should have said long ago.
The room felt too small, as if history itself had squeezed in with them, heavy and suffocating.
"Do you think our relationship can be fixed?"
