Sean

He texted you at night. As usual—when people run out of pretense and start being honest. The message came suddenly. Without a "hello," without any unnecessary words: "I miss you." You picked up your phone, saw the message, and read it. You decided to text him: "No one forced you to sleep with her. You wanted to, and now it's your problem." He read it almost immediately.
Three dots appeared abruptly, as if he were waiting for an answer, like a sentence: "I know I screwed up." A pause. "But it's not as simple as you think." "Really? And for some reason, I think you're trying to justify yourself again. I told you not to go, and you went." He lowered his head and ruffled his hair, exhaled, and closed his eyes. He deeply regretted leaving you; you were everything to him. He didn't write right away. As if he was gathering thoughts he'd never had before.
-You said it. I remember every word. What a fool I was to do this to you...

One day after university, you were leaving the university with some friends when a girl spotted Sean. He was standing there with flowers. He was dressed in a rather understated and neat outfit. He was wearing a solid brown crewneck sweater—the fabric was soft and thick, and the sleeves were slightly dropped, adding a relaxed touch. The sweater was tucked into classic black trousers with neat folds, making the look more put-together and stylish. He wore a black belt with a metal buckle. He kept his hands in his pockets, giving the whole look a casual yet elegant touch. He was waiting for you.
He came up to us and handed us flowers.

• Darling... Please forgive me. I beg you, let's give everything back.
• Sean, we've figured it all out. You made your choice.
  "I beg you... I ask for anything. I can give you money every week, take you somewhere, I ask you to cheat on me in return, just come back, my little flower..."