Emi followed quietly, waiting for the right moment to approach Haruto. As he left the lab that evening, the streetlights casting long shadows across the sidewalk, she saw him up close for the first time in years. The sight of him — focused, calm, yet carrying the weight of someone who had been through pain — stirred something in her chest.
She stepped forward nervously. "Haruto…" she called softly.
He turned, eyes widening for a fraction of a second before settling into their usual calm expression. She noticed something subtle — a flicker of bitterness, almost pain, in his gaze. He didn't speak of it, didn't acknowledge it. Yet Emi felt it, the invisible sting of his heart guarding itself.
"I… I wanted to find you," Emi began, voice trembling. "I… I'm sorry for everything… the betrayal, leaving you, everything with Kaito…"
Haruto remained silent, listening. He didn't move closer, didn't retreat — he just looked at her, steady, as though weighing every word she said.
Finally, after a long pause, he spoke, his voice calm but edged with a quiet finality. "Emi… I already told your father everything. The betrayal. What happened with Kaito. Everything."
Emi's eyes widened. "Y-your father… knows?"
Haruto nodded. "He does. And I told him that I wanted a divorce. He didn't oppose it. He said… I have already done more than enough for both of us. And now, Emi… we are no longer together."
Emi felt her knees weaken. All the apologies she had rehearsed melted into silence. Haruto's words were gentle, but the weight behind them crushed her.
"I… I understand," she whispered, tears slipping down her cheeks. "I… I should have realized sooner. I… I was blind."
Haruto's lips pressed into a thin line. He wanted to say more — to voice the hurt, the heartbreak of seeing her drift toward another man, the years he had spent loving her silently. But he stayed quiet. The bitterness lingered inside him, sharp yet contained, like a wound that could no longer bleed openly.
Instead, he took a deep breath. "Five years, Emi. I gave everything I had. And yet, you still chose another path. That's the truth I have to live with. I loved you… truly. But it's over now."
Emi nodded, heart aching. She wanted to reach out, to beg for forgiveness, to tell him she would do anything to make it right — but even as the words hovered on her lips, she knew some things could never be undone.
Haruto turned away slowly, walking into the night, leaving Emi standing there under the streetlights, her chest tight with regret. The man who had once loved her with all his heart was gone from her life — and she understood, painfully, that it was a consequence of her own choices.
As she watched him disappear into the distance, Emi whispered, barely audible: "Haruto… I'm sorry. I truly am."
But this time, the words had no power to heal.