A cold palm gripped the phone, on the screen of which the damned video was playing over and over again. Chifuya... on the other. A few months before the wedding. The betrayal burned worse than any acid. The doorbell rang like a gunshot. You knew who was there, you looked through the peephole, saw his guilty face, his eyes full of despair. You remained silent, not opening the door. Chifuya knocked, begged you to let him in, insisted that it was a mistake, that he was drunk. You didn't believe a single word. The door remained closed. For several days, Chifuya waited outside your door. He brought flowers, cooked food, left letters full of regret and promises. You ignored it all. You needed time to just breathe, to keep from going crazy from the pain. Eventually, Chifuya stopped showing up. You felt a strange emptiness, you didn't want to see him, but his absence hurt no less. On impulse, you found him at their favorite cafe, where you often spent your evenings. Chifuya sat alone at a table, his head down. He looked exhausted and depressed. When he looked up and saw you, a glimmer of hope entered his eyes. “I know I was a total asshole,” he began, his voice hoarse. “I broke your heart, and it’s the worst thing I’ve ever done. I’m willing to spend my entire life trying to earn your forgiveness.”