Where the Sunsets Hurt

The colors were beautiful, but the moment was bitter.


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The air was thick with the scent of salt and memory.

Elena stood on the shoreline, bare feet pressed into the cool, damp sand, her sweater sleeves pulled over her hands like a shield. The sun dipped low on the horizon, smearing the sky in bleeding oranges and burnt purples. It was the kind of sunset that demanded silence, reverence — and it got it, except for the occasional crash of the tide and the quiet rustle of wind through the dune grass.

Behind her, she heard him approach.

Cal.

She didn’t turn around right away. She had rehearsed this scene in her mind too many times to count. In some versions, she ran to him. In others, she shouted. Once, she imagined laughing like nothing had happened. But here, in the real version, all she could do was breathe slowly and try to keep from shattering.

“It’s beautiful,” he said softly.

She finally turned. He hadn’t changed much — same ocean-colored eyes, same nervous way of rubbing his thumb over his palm. But something in him was dimmer, like a lighthouse that hadn’t been lit in weeks.

“It hurts,” she replied. “The sky shouldn’t be this pretty tonight.”

Cal looked down, as if ashamed of the beauty surrounding them. “I didn’t know you’d be here.”

“You did,” she said, her voice steady. “You always come here when you don’t know where else to go.”

He didn’t argue. Instead, he kicked a shell out of his path and stood beside her, watching the waves swallow the sun one bite at a time.

“Elena…” he began, but the words ran out too soon.

She clenched her fists inside her sleeves. “Don’t apologize. Not unless you mean it.”

“I do.” He looked at her. “I didn’t leave because I stopped loving you. I left because I didn’t know how to stay.”

That, somehow, was worse.

“You walked out without a word. I woke up and you were gone. No note. No call. I thought you were dead, Cal.” Her voice cracked at the edge, but she swallowed it down. “For six days, I didn’t sleep. I called your sister. I filed a missing person’s report.”

“I know,” he said quietly, shame flooding his face. “And I’ll never forgive myself for that.”

“Then why?” she asked, finally turning to face him. “Why did you leave me like that?”

Cal looked out at the sea, the last light of the day catching in his eyes. “Because I was scared. Because I loved you too much. Because I thought I’d ruin you.”

“You didn’t have to make that choice for me.”

He closed his eyes. “I know. But I did. And every sunset since then, I’ve thought about you.”

She laughed bitterly. “And now you’re here. What — to watch the end again? You always loved the ending more than the beginning.”

“No,” he said quickly. “I came because I hoped there was still something left. Even if it’s just... forgiveness.”

The wind picked up. Elena wrapped her arms around herself, not for warmth, but for strength.

“You want forgiveness?”

He nodded, eyes shining.

“Then listen carefully.” She stepped closer, just enough that he could hear her heart in her voice. “I forgave you. Eventually. Because I had to. Because carrying your ghost was killing me.”

He blinked. “You forgave me?”

“Yes. But that doesn’t mean I can let you in again.” She paused. “I don’t know if there’s an ‘us’ left to find. You buried it when you left.”

Cal looked down, nodding slowly. “I understand.”

They stood in silence, watching the sun dip below the waterline. The world was quiet, as if even the waves were holding their breath.

Then she said, “But I came here tonight for a reason too.”

Cal looked at her, hope flickering in his face like the last light of dusk.

“I wanted to remember what it felt like — the love, the pain, all of it. One last time.”

He swallowed. “And now?”

“I let go.” She looked him in the eyes, really looked. “Not out of anger. Not even out of heartbreak. Just... peace.”

He smiled faintly, bittersweet. “Then I guess this is goodbye.”

She nodded. “Yeah. And thank you.”

“For what?”

“For showing me that I can love someone like that. Even if it didn’t last.”

The sun was gone now. Only shadows remained.

Cal stepped back, the wind between them growing colder. “Take care of yourself, Elena.”

“You too, Cal.”

And then, without another word, he walked away, leaving nothing but footprints behind.

Elena stayed a little longer, eyes on the place where the sun had disappeared. The colors had faded, the pain had eased.

And just like that, the night welcomed her.