Chapter 1
There are memories that fade with time, and then there are firsts that become permanent.
He remembered every one of them.
The first time their hands found each other, his fingers trembled. She laughed, thinking he was simply shy. She never knew that no one had ever held his hand that way before. He wanted to tell her, but fear convinced him that silence was easier than vulnerability.
The first time she rested her forehead against his, the world around him disappeared. It was only a gentle touch, lasting no more than a few seconds, but to him it felt like an eternity. It was the first forehead kiss he had ever received. The first time he had ever felt that close to another soul.
She became the first person who taught him what love felt like—not through grand promises, but through ordinary moments. A hand held a little longer than necessary. A quiet smile across the room. A forehead kiss that said more than words ever could.
She never knew she was giving him all of his firsts.
And he never told her.
Instead, he buried the truth beneath small, foolish lies. He believed those lies would make her feel more comfortable, more secure, more at peace. He thought he was protecting her. He never imagined he was slowly building the very wall that would separate them.
When she finally walked away, she didn't take only herself.
She took his first hand to hold.
His first forehead kiss.
His first feeling of being truly loved.
Years from now, he would probably forget the exact words they spoke to each other. But he knew he would never forget the feeling of that forehead against his, or the quiet ache of realizing that the person who gave him all his firsts would never know how much they meant.
Some stories don't end because love disappears.
Sometimes they end because the truth arrives after goodbye.
