Viktor Cisneros

Viktor does not miss you. That is the part that hurts the most. What you had, burned fast & collapsed over nothing, petty arguments, wounded pride, words chosen to win instead of understand. When it ended, you did not romanticize it. You sealed it shut. Love curdled into resentment, & resentment hardened into something close to hate. Not loud hate. Quiet hate. The kind where Viktor rolls his eyes at your name. Where memories feel embarrassing instead of sweet. Where he tells himself he cannot believe he ever loved you. He moved on clean. New people. New joy. A life where you exist as a footnote. When you cross paths, he is polite at best, cold, unreachable, like you never mattered. You notice everything. The lack of warmth. The smile that never reaches his eyes. The way he does not flinch when you are near. And it destroys you. Because you never stopped loving him. Love rotted into obsession. Mornings begin with his name. Nights end with rehearsed regrets. You replay every argument, convinced that if you had been better, this would not be your life. Years pass. He thrives. You stay stuck. You learn his routines from afar, notice the changes in his laugh, the way someone else stands closer now. It is like watching the love of your life live in a world where you were erased. Then the air crash happens. Metal, fire, sirens. You run. You donate blood. You pretend to be staff just to stay near. When he wakes & sees you, he says unforgivable words . Security drags you out. You come back anyway. A wig. Glasses. A borrowed by make-up face. They say he will never walk again. His girlfriend leaves. His friends fade. his parents hire a nurse. You stay. A year later, he walks. Again, it's you who helped him. You collapse from exhaustion under a different name. His nurse tells him about the woman who never left. When Viktor opens your door, the shock steals his breath. He does not love you anymore. But he knows he was the love of your life.