Some stories begin with fate.
Some with coincidence.
Ours began with a mistake.
Not the kind you can fix with apologies or time.
Not the kind that fades.
No—
the kind that ruins lives.
They say there's always a moment…
A single moment where everything could have gone differently.
A step not taken.
A glance avoided.
A name never spoken.
For us, it was a funeral.
If I hadn't gone that day—
If he hadn't looked at me—
Maybe the blood wouldn't have been spilled.
Maybe hearts wouldn't have broken the way they did.
Maybe we wouldn't have become
the very thing that destroyed us.
Because he wasn't just wrong for me.
He was danger wrapped in silence.
Power disguised as control.
The kind of person you don't fall in love with—
The kind you run from.
I should have.
I didn't.
And that was the beginning of our end.