The park was quieter than usual when Hanna arrived. The air was cool, and the scent of damp earth lingered in the breeze. She could hear the distant rustling of leaves, the soft chirping of birds, but everything felt muted, as though the world was holding its breath.
She spotted Marco sitting on the same bench by the lake where she and Finn had shared countless moments of peace. His posture was rigid, his hands resting on his lap as he stared out over the water, lost in thought.
Taking a deep breath, Hanna approached, her heart pounding in her chest. She’d imagined this moment countless times—what she’d say, how he’d react, how she could explain the mess she’d created. But now that she was standing in front of him, words felt useless, and she wasn’t sure how to begin.
“Marco,” she said softly, her voice breaking the stillness.
He looked up, his expression unreadable. The usual fire in his eyes seemed dimmed, replaced by something colder. He didn’t smile, didn’t even offer a greeting. He just nodded. “Hanna.”
She sat beside him, maintaining a respectful distance, unsure whether he wanted her close or far away. The silence stretched between them, heavy with everything they hadn’t said.
Finally, Marco spoke, his voice low. “You really did it this time, didn’t you?”
Hanna flinched, but she didn’t look away. “I didn’t mean for any of this to happen. I never wanted to hurt you.”
Marco shook his head slowly, his jaw tightening. “I don’t even know who you are anymore, Hanna. You’ve been playing everyone, including yourself. First, it was Finn—then you pushed me away, pretending like you were over him. And now you want me to believe this… this mess?”
The words stung, sharper than she expected, and for a moment, her breath caught in her throat. She opened her mouth to argue, but no words came.
“I never wanted to hurt you, Marco,” she said finally, her voice raw with honesty. “I didn’t know how to handle all of it. I still don’t.”
Marco’s eyes softened slightly, but the wall between them remained firm. “You don’t get it, do you? You never asked me how I felt, Hanna. You just assumed I’d be there, like always. But I can’t keep doing that. Not after everything.”
Hanna turned her gaze to the lake, watching the water ripple in the breeze. The weight of his words settled over her like a heavy fog, and she knew that some things—some relationships—could never be repaired, no matter how hard you tried.
“I know,” she said quietly. “I’ve messed up. And I don’t expect forgiveness. But I wanted you to know… that none of it was because of you.”
There was a long pause, and for a moment, Hanna thought Marco wasn’t going to say anything more. But then he exhaled deeply, his shoulders slumping.
“I don’t know what I expected,” he muttered, his voice laced with bitterness. “Maybe for you to pick me, for once. But you didn’t. And that’s the hardest part.”
Hanna’s heart ached at the vulnerability in his voice. “I never wanted to hurt you like this,” she whispered. “I didn’t pick Finn to hurt you. I don’t even know what I was doing.”
Marco was silent for a long moment, staring out at the water. Finally, he spoke again, his voice softer this time. “I don’t know if I can forgive you, Hanna. I don’t know if I even want to.”
She nodded, accepting the truth in his words. “I understand. I just wanted you to know that I’m sorry. For everything.”
They sat in silence after that, the distance between them growing with every passing minute. Hanna knew that what they had was broken beyond repair, but she couldn’t help the sense of loss that lingered. She had hurt him. She had hurt herself. And now, there was nothing left but the bitter taste of regret.
“Maybe… maybe one day we can be friends again,” Marco said, his voice almost wistful. “But not now. Not like this.”
Hanna forced a small smile. “I’ll be waiting, if you ever want to talk.”
Marco nodded, though he didn’t look at her. “Goodbye, Hanna.”
With that, he stood, turning away without another word. Hanna watched him walk off, the weight of the finality in his departure sinking into her chest.
It was over.
~
The walk home was long and lonely. As she reached the front door, she checked her phone and saw a message from Finn.
Finn: Are you okay?
She paused for a moment, then typed back.
Hanna: Yeah. Just… needed to talk to Marco.
Finn: I’m here, whenever you’re ready.
Hanna smiled faintly, her fingers lingering over the screen. The loss of Marco stung, but she knew she wasn’t alone anymore. She had Finn—someone who was willing to fight for her, even when she wasn’t sure she deserved it.
Hanna: I know. Thank you, Finn.
She set her phone down and stepped inside, feeling the weight of the evening press on her chest. The storm might not be over, but for the first time in a long time, she felt like she could face it.