Page 152 of Once in a Lifetime, Part 2

“You won’t. If you could, you would’ve done it already.” He looked down. “Maybe she gives you something I can’t. I’m pretty sure she’s better than me anyway.” He swallowed. “She deserves you more than I do.”

Ody shook his head. “Please… don’t do this. I know I’ve hurt you, but—” He reached for him, but Mano turned away.

Ody’s hand stilled in the air. Then fell.

“This isn’t the solution,” he choked. “Everything’s happening so we can finally be together.”

Mano’s jaw clenched, but he said nothing.

“Do you even love me?” Ody stared at him, waiting.

Mano’s gaze dropped, his vision blurring before he forced himself to look back at Ody.

“Tell me,” Ody said, his voice breaking. “Even a little?”

“It doesn’t matter.”

Ody’s head dropped, sobs tearing out of him as he dragged a shaking hand through his hair. “I know I fucked everything up, but—” He sucked in a shaky breath, forcing himself to look up. “If you loved me, you wouldn’t leave.”

Mano held his gaze, every muscle in his face tense as he fought to keep it together. “If you loved me, you’d leave her.”

Ody broke in front of him.

Mano’s chest ached. He almost reached for him. But he didn’t. “Take care of yourself, mikre.” His voice came out rough as he turned and walked away.

He made it three steps. A tear slipped down his cheek. Then another.

He dragged a hand across his face, but it didn’t help. His throat burned.

Every instinct screamed at him to turn around, run back, pull Ody into his arms, and undo everything he’d just done.

Don’t look back.

He kept walking.

Ody’s knees gave out. He slid down against the ledge, sobbing.

A few people glanced over, hesitating.

He buried his face in his hands.

“Are you alright, dear?” an elderly woman asked.

He didn’t answer. He couldn’t.

She held out a tissue. “Here.”

Ody lifted his head, his face soaked.

“Don’t cry, dear. Wipe your eyes.”

He forced himself to his feet, still shaking, took the tissue, and walked toward the park’s exit. He found a quiet corner and sank into the grass, pulling his knees to his chest. The sobs wouldn’t stop.

Mano got home and leaned back against the door, eyes wet. He pushed himself off it and walked to the table, dragging his hand across it, sending everything crashing to the floor. A half-full glass bottle hit the tiles and shattered on impact.

He dropped to his knees, breath uneven, hands braced on the ground. For a moment, he stayed there, trying to steady himself. Then he let himself fall back onto the floor, among the shards.

A few dug into his skin.