I don't want to talk about it, just want to fall to pieces

It was his worst fear, it was all the things he'd been telling himself over and over and over again playing out, right in front of him. Emile hadn't meant to brush her off, but maybe all the time he'd spend trying to avoid others had made him seem callous, or maybe he simply deserved this. The latter felt right, it lined up with all he'd been telling himself. That he would be abandoned. He'd been trying, he was trying to take his father's words to heart, wanted to believe that he could get better, even if he wasn't ready to open himself up yet.

And as Bowen turned, didn't even say anything else and walked away from him whatever little hope he'd been harboring... It crumbled. Emile wanted to call out to her, found his body moving much much too late. A forepaw reaching out as if able to stop her but she was already too far away, and his mouth opened, but no words, not even a single sound could leave him. He wanted to scream at Bowen not to leave him, not again. But he couldn't, because if she didn't want him in her life what right did he have to even wish otherwise? Emile fell forward, chest hitting the ground and he didn't get up, remaining sprawled on the ground. He tucked his head into his chest and other foreleg and shook. This was the worst-case scenario, she was choosing to abandon him. Like he'd always known would happen. Confirmation bias.  Emile quietly broke down, for the first time he wished he was dead, that whatever thing had taken his mother and sister from him had taken him too.



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