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like father, like son

Wolf found himself sitting on the cold, damp ground beside his father’s grave. The cemetery was silent, and the only sounds were the faint rustling of trees and the distant hum of city life, both muted and far from reach. He took a long drag from his cigarette, exhaled slowly and watched the smoke twist and disappear into the twilight.

In his other hand was a half-empty beer bottle, his grip loose as he stared down at the ground. His father's name etched in stone felt heavier than ever, like an anchor pulling him under. He hadn’t planned to end up here that night, but it was the only place that made sense.

The news had hit him hard, harder than he wanted to admit. He was going to be a dad, but not with the woman he loved. That fact felt like a bitter shard lodged in his chest, twisting deeper every time he thought about it. He took another sip of beer, trying to numb the ache, but it clung stubbornly to him, a sad reminder of everything slipping through his fingers.

He thought of Camilla, her laugh, the way she looked at him, that spark between them that felt like nothing he’d ever known. And now, he was supposed to let it go. To let her go. It was a twisted kind of irony, finding something so good only to lose it to the weight of his own mistakes.

“Guess I messed up again, didn’t I?” he murmured and ooked at the grave. “Just like you warned me I would.”

The thought of Camilla—of having to say goodbye without actually saying it—was suffocating, but he’d made up his mind. She deserved more than he could give her now.

He stubbed out his cigarette, the ember died against the cold stone beneath him. He finished off the beer and set the bottle down beside his father’s headstone.

“Goodbye, my baby.” he felt the words settle like stones in his gut. “Oh and, bye for now dad”

It felt like surrender, and for the first time in a long while, he wasn’t sure if he’d ever come back from it.