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They had agreed to meet on the beach. The sky was incredibly beautiful today, the sunset had descended over the city. All the locals were walking with their phones, taking pictures of the bright red sky. They were all united in a silent agreement that this day was special. Jack sat on the sand, staring into the distance. On any other day, they would be swimming in the warm water, drinking cocktails and chatting for hours about everything in the world. Rayane would have said something silly, he would tease him in return, they’d laugh… and eventually kiss.
He couldn’t believe that would never happen again. Everything was ruined. Their relationship had lasted two years. Two years of love, care, closeness. He had given all of himself — completely.
Now all that was left were the ruins.
He never thought he could love so deeply. A stranger had become the person who knew him better than anyone. The one who greeted him with a smile every morning, who hugged him before sleep. The one who taught him to trust — and then showed how much betrayal hurts. He felt like an idiot. For believing, for dreaming — about how they’d run away from this city, get married, get a cat, live in their own apartment and love each other forever.
Stupid, naive fool.
He sat on the sand, still waiting for the person who had been the most important in the world to him. And that was the most tragic part: he still was the most important.
He should have hated him, erased two perfect years, cursed him for the pain. But he had too many questions, and the answers mattered more — even more than hate.
He felt ashamed that he still loved him. Loved the one who had betrayed him. Who had lied to his face for a whole month. Who, for the first time in two years, didn’t choose him.
He heard footsteps. So familiar — he would recognize them among a million — slow, steady, determined.
This time he didn't catch the scent of the perfume he gave him for Christmas . This scent was different. It stank of betrayal. For the first time, he didn’t want to see his face. Didn’t want to hear his voice.
He remembered the times when he dreamt of seeing him. How he wanted to touch him. When he used to get out of bed just for that moment and walk to school. For the first time, he didn’t want it.
Rayane sat next to him. He kept a distance, sat like a stranger would. That had never happened before. Even apart, they were always connected.
Now, that connection was gone.
He kept staring at the horizon, hating the sunset — beautiful only in the eyes of the happy. A sunset that gives hope and freedom, but not for him.
He wondered what Rayane thought of it. Was he admiring it? Or, like him, despising it?
It had happened yesterday. He found out from Lizzie. Not from him. He hadn’t even dared to tell him. To say he had cheated. That same night, the room was empty. A room once filled with his things was now void. Empty, except for the memories — now faded to black and white, soaked in a strange mix of nostalgia and hate.
They didn’t speak. His beloved person had just left, but this time for good.
He cried all night. The next morning came a message — a request to meet. He agreed. Answers mattered more than pride.
He felt a gaze. His gaze. But didn’t look back.
— Jack... I…
— Why?
Rayane was silent.
— Why did you do it?
Silence.
— Please... answer me, Rayane, — he begged.
— I don’t know. Honestly, I don’t know.
— Was it because of me? Did I do something wrong? Were you missing something?
— No. It’s not your fault. It’s me.
— Why, Rayane? Why?!
— Jack, I’m so sorry. So incredibly sorry.
— Just answer the question... can you just answer the question?
Their eyes met.
Red from tears, their eyes spoke of love, of pain, of fear — shared by both.
But one pair held rage, the other — guilt.
And that was fair.
— Did you ever love me? When did you stop loving me? Before you met him or after?
— I never stopped loving you. Never. You know that.
— But you chose him… not me. For the first time, you didn’t choose me.
— I didn’t love him. It was just… attraction. I didn’t know what I was doing… I didn’t know.
— Did you kiss?
Rayane nodded.
— He kissed me first, I... I didn’t want to.
He took a deep breath. The first answer was given.
— So it wasn’t just attraction. Give you a month, and it’ll be love.
— I would never love him. Not in a month, not in a year.
— Then why, Rayane, why the fuck? — he was desperate for answers — We were perfect… Or so I thought. Was I not giving you enough attention? Was I refusing you sex and he wasn’t? What was it?
— He was the first to choose... me. The first who looked at me with desire. I was wanted. And I gave into it.
— I chose you too, I always chose you, Rayane.
Silence.
— And you chose him back. You got what you wanted, and you kept going...
— Yes… and I regret it. I hate myself for it.
— You knew what you were doing. So don’t bother regretting it now.
— Jack, please… stop.
Rayane reached for his leg.
— Don’t touch me. Don’t you dare. Not after what you did.
The hand that once meant so much lay still on the sand.
— Did you think about what this would do to us? You knew how it would end. But you kept going. You lied when you promised not to lie. Looked me in the eyes — and lied. Lied that you missed me, that you were busy, tired… that you loved me.
— I thought about you the whole time. Even with him... I truly love you, even if you don’t believe it now, it’s true! It’s the only thing I know for sure.
— Liar.
Silence. Tears fell from the gray-green eyes he still loved. Eyes that once were his everything.
— I’m not lying.
He was on the edge too.
— Will you ever forgive me? In a month, a year? Someday…
— I wish I could. But I can’t… I’m sorry.
— I really love you, Jack. More than anything in this world. I made a mistake and regretted it immediately… He means nothing. Never did. You’re the only one who matters.
— Rayane... the truth is you don’t love me anymore. You’re just afraid to admit it. You chose freedom, chose something new, got rid of the routine our relationship had become. You just got bored of me — that’s the truth! Someone who loves doesn’t betray — he looked into those big eyes — He might be tempted, but he doesn’t continue. You could’ve stopped three times: when you met. When you kissed. When you slept together.
You didn’t stop.
Silence.
— I really love you — Rayane covered his face with his hand.
Silence.
— What will happen to us? Will we ever see each other again? I can’t say goodbye to you, Jack… I can’t. Not like this, it can’t end like this.
— Me neither… but it can’t go on. You had your chance and you blew it. Even our story can end, Rayane.
They looked at each other. In their eyes — tears, regret, and love. Everything had been said, all the answers given. This was the end.
He looked at the face of the person he loved with all his heart and saw not just a traitor — he saw his savior, his pain, his attachment, his dreams — now crumbled to ash.
Rayane stood up first. He stood there, not knowing what to do with his hands, his eyes, the pain inside. For the first time in a long while, he seemed lost, almost broken.
— I’ll go… — he said quietly. — But if one day you… if somehow you can forgive… I’ll be waiting. You hear me? Always. Just call...
Jack didn’t answer. The sunset was hideous.
He heard Rayane walk away. The steps were slow again — but now unsure.
The silent scream he couldn’t let out stayed inside.
Now he could cry. He sobbed for a lost love, burying his face in his knees, never having felt this much pain and bitterness.
He knew that from now on, every evening on that beach would smell not like the sea — but of betrayal.
And still, despite it all, he loved him.
That was the worst part.
Several minutes passed before he stood up.
His fingers still felt the warmth of the sand, his mind circling with fragments of words, glances, touches.
Jack took out his phone and opened their last message: “Jack, please, let’s talk. I’ll wait for you at our place. At six.”
He didn’t delete it. He kept it — a reminder of beautiful love and terrible betrayal.
Saturday evening.
He was walking down the familiar street to Jack's apartment. Could he still call it his home? The constant, burning guilt had already become a part of him over the past month. He knew what he had done, understood how much he had destroyed, and now his only goal was to get it all back. Even if it meant lying again, deceiving again — anything, just not to lose him.
He climbed the stairs, inserted the key into the lock, opened the door. The apartment was quiet. Too quiet. Usually, the place was filled with light and voices. The lights were off. He walked into their room and pushed the door open. Jack was standing by the window in the dark. He was looking at the sunset, which was beautiful that evening.
He came up and kissed him on his curls.
Jack recoiled. Silently, but with a look that carried more pain than any scream. His eyes were full of hatred and regret. He looked into his eyes as if trying to find someone he once loved — and not finding them. He understood everything. Jack knew.
“Give me the key to the apartment,” Jack said quietly.
“Jack, please... listen...”
“I said give me the key!” — his voice wasn’t angry. It was the voice of someone who had nothing left to lose.
He handed him the key. Jack nodded.
“You have five minutes to pack your things and leave” — he said it while burning him with a merciless stare.
Jack walked out of the room. He froze. What have I done? How did it come to this? He collapsed on the bed. The bed where they used to laugh, cuddle, argue, and make up. The bed they picked together. Now it felt endlessly empty. And far too big. Only one thought was spinning in his head: “How could I? Why did I do this to him? He didn’t deserve it.”
There was no answer.
He opened the wardrobe.
Hanging there was Jack’s pink shirt.
He remembered it: at the wedding, at his own birthday, the night they got caught in the rain, kissed under the tree and laughed, soaked to the bone. Jack wore it to their first dinner with Karim — and now, here it was. Tears streamed down his cheeks. He couldn’t stop them. He wanted to get up, run to the window, jump and hit the ground just to forget it all.
He wanted to walk into the other room, wrap his arms around Jack and whisper how much he loved him and how scared he was of losing him.
He wanted Jack to hold him and pull him close.
But it was too late.
He packed his things.
When he came out, Jack was sitting on the couch, staring into the distance like someone who had lost everything. Because he had.
Two people in one apartment, knowing everything about each other, but not knowing how to go on or how to get back.
He left, knowing he would never return.
He had lost his family, his love.
He had killed it all with his own hands.
The next day, he sent a message:
“Jack, please, let’s talk. I’ll be waiting for you at our place. At six.”
There was still a faint glimmer of hope in his heart.
What if this isn’t the end?
He came to the beach.
The place where they had spent their best days. Where they fought and made up. Where they had been happy.
The place that had become theirs.
Fear gripped him. What do I say? Will Jack believe me?
He only knew one thing — he still loved him.
It was the only truth he had left.
The only thing he was sure of.
But now, the words “I love you” no longer had power.
The lie had destroyed the truth.
The magic was gone.
“Why did you do it?” — Jack asked.
He knew the answer. But he couldn’t say it out loud.
Couldn’t admit he had chosen someone else.
Couldn’t say he was weak, scared, broken inside.
Afraid Jack would choose someone else and leave him.
Afraid he would ruin it all — so he acted first.
Unconsciously, but fatally.
To confess that lust had won over love?
Yes. That was the truth.
It was cruel, but it was real.
“Why, Rayane? What were you thinking? We had… everything. Or was it just me who thought that? What were you missing?”
He wanted to fall to his knees in front of him, cry, confess how much he loved him.
Say he didn’t know how to live without him.
He wanted to hear: “It’s going to be okay. We love each other, we’ll get through this.”
But now, he wasn’t sure if he was even loved anymore.
The truth was: he was too loved.
And he believed it would always be that way.
But it turned out, love doesn’t give unlimited chances.
He had one chance — a second chance, exactly a year ago.
Now, there would be no more.
He reached out to Jack — just to touch him.
To make sure he was still there.
But Jack pulled away.
“Don’t touch me. Don’t you dare.”
It was a blow.
Touch had always been their language.
That’s how it started.
At first — a necessity, later — desire, and now — a forbidden fruit.
The connection was gone.
“Did you think about what this would do to us?”
He did.
But his arrogance, his belief in his own innocence, drowned out the voice of reason.
He gave in to his inner demon.
And then found a real one.
Jimmy meant nothing — but he was drawn to him.
He saw in him a copy of himself: someone who would step over anything to get what he wanted.
That’s what attracted him.
He was Jack’s opposite.
He burned with passion — and Rayane couldn’t resist.
The biggest mistake of his life.
He traded two years of happiness for two weeks of reckless thrill.
He thought about Jack when he was with Jimmy.
But was afraid to admit that he thought about Jimmy when he was with Jack.
It wasn’t love — it was lust.
Foolish, fleeting, destructive.
Now only the truth remained.
Bitter, but still the truth.
Even if it no longer mattered.
A pathetic declaration of love, meaningless to the other person.
The worst part wasn’t that Jack didn’t forgive him.
It was that he didn’t believe him.
Didn’t believe in his love.
Didn’t believe in his regret.
And he couldn’t forgive himself either.
That was what destroyed him most.
He looked at the sunset.
That blood-red sunset.
Once, they looked at sunsets like this and dreamed.
Of the future. Of a home. Of a life.
Now — it was their last sunset.
And it looked like blood spilled across the sky.
He stood up. And said what he had to say:
“I’ll go...” he said quietly.
“But if one day you… if somehow you can forgive… I’ll be waiting. You hear me? Always. Just call me...”
Now he had only one wish left.
For every holiday.
For every birthday.
One wish he would keep believing in —
and wait for, every single day.