Mark stood silently outside the small café, fingers trembling around the cup of untouched tea. Through the window, he could see his father laughing with a small girl and a woman. His new family. His heart felt like ash. His breath burned.
He had rehearsed a thousand times what he would say—
Why did you leave me? Why wasn't I enough? Why did Mom cry alone every night?
But now his voice was gone.
The door bell jingled as a man entered, brushing past Mark. His father turned for a second. Their eyes met. Mark froze.
The man's smile faded. A flicker of guilt — then fear — then shame.
But Mark looked away first.
Not because he forgave, but because he could not bear one more second of that feeling… that he was forgotten.
He walked away, each step heavier than the last.
Larry found him near the bus stop, staring at the road like it could swallow his pain.
"You went to meet him, didn't you?" Larry asked softly.
Mark's jaw tightened.
"He has a daughter now. A new life. He looked… happy." His voice cracked.
Larry sighed. "Mark… parents are not gods. They break too. They run. Mine ran too."
Mark chuckled bitterly, wiping his eyes.
"So what do we do now? Cry? Beg love from someone who gave up on us?"
"No," Larry answered. "We live. Stronger."
Mark looked at him—tired, broken, yet burning inside.
"No. They created a devil," Mark whispered.
"From today… I care only about myself. If this world didn't care about me, why should I care about it?
"
Larry put a hand on his shoulder.
"Don't say that. You're hurt, not evil."
Mark shrugged his hand away.
"Larry. Everyone goes to hell in the end. Why should I burn alone?"
He walked forward into the crowd.
Not running.
Not weak.
But with a dangerous calm.
Larry watched him go, fear tightening his chest.
He muttered, "Don't let your pain eat your heart, Mark…"
But Mark wasn't listening
.
The world had turned cold.
And now he decided to freeze his heart too.