Night fell quietly, bringing the first autumn rain. I shut the balcony door tight, sealing out the sound.
But the rain still tangled with my thoughts, pulling up faded memories.
Another rainy night like this. We’d fought. Badly. I forget why.

I stormed out. No purse, no plan. Just sat fuming on a park bench.
Drizzle turned to downpour. Anger washed away, replaced by loneliness.
My face was soaked – tears or rain? Hard to tell.
Suddenly, a shadow fell over me, blocking the rain. His voice was cold, edged with anger: ["It's pouring. Didn't think to come home?"]
Honestly? Seeing him, I was thrilled.
My face probably gave it away – even my eyebrows seemed happy. I tried playing it cool: ["Why'd you come?"]

I don't remember his exact words. Just that he pulled me close, kissed me deeply.
His arms were so warm. So warm…
Heading to work the next morning, the neighborhood ladies were gossiping like always.
["Oh my, did you see that young man downstairs this morning? Pale as a sheet!"]

My steps slowed almost unconsciously.
["Someone said he was kneeling there all night?"]
["I heard when they took him to the hospital, he was completely out of it…"]
Bits and pieces painted an incomplete picture.
If I were an outsider, I might have been moved. But I wasn't.
And I wasn't an eighteen-year-old girl anymore, ready to swoon or ache for him.
I was twenty-nine. Love wasn't my whole life anymore. Maybe… not even necessary.
I'd learned bits about Jason later.
He found out Emily's baby wasn't his. Blew up. Went after her family's business hard.
Then his competitors got their hands on evidence. He was scrambling. Last I heard, Summit Tech was hanging by a thread.
That afternoon, a text from Jason: meet him at the hospital.
I didn't refuse. I brought yellow roses.
He was in a blue-striped hospital gown, eyes closed. Sunlight hit his face, sharpening his already defined features.
I didn't wake him. Just sat by the bed watching. It felt like ages since we’d been this calm together.
The last cloud vanished before he finally stirred.
He rubbed the bridge of his nose, weariness etched deep. ["Sorry. Been exhausted. Passed out."]
["It's fine."]
["Since you seem okay, I'll head out."]
["Wait…"]
His voice held a note of urgency. I turned, waiting.
["The flowers… they're nice."]
I’d forgotten where I’d read it: yellow roses mean farewell, love that's gone. Even parting, I wanted grace.
My hand was on the doorknob. I didn't look back this time.
Forgiving him, pretending it never happened? Impossible.
Fighting him tooth and nail? Pointless.
The dramatic showdowns from novels didn't happen. We were just NPCs in this world.
But I was the main character in mine. And this ending? It felt right.
Friends and family heard about the divorce. All expressed regret. I just smiled.
My twelve-year-old cousin whispered, "Where's Jason?"
People love beautiful things. She adored him.
I smiled back. ["You won't see him anymore."]
She didn't look sad or disappointed. Just blinked her big eyes: ["Does that mean you won't see Jason anymore either?"]
Probably. Some people? Meeting once is enough.
Meeting once… uses up a lifetime.