BETWEEN ME AND YOU

THE THREE BROKEN HEARTS

The mist clung to the air, a pale, shimmering presence that felt almost alive. It seemed to breathe alongside them, softly whispering echoes of days gone by.

Banjo stood in the center of the clearing, his eyes rimmed with tears, his hands trembling as if they were holding two worlds at once.

“I asked for you both,” he began, his voice breaking. “I begged the mist to give me back what I’d destroyed… and it answered in the cruelest way. It gave me one woman... made from the two I broke.”

The silence that followed was heavy, almost holy.

Kristine Sanchez stared at him, her lips trembling. Her heart pounded painfully in her chest as memories collided like broken glass. Faces. Moments. Kisses. Betrayal. “How did you do this to me… Banjo?” she asked, her voice shaking.

The question wasn’t only for him, it was for fate itself.

Banjo froze. Her words hit him harder than any slap. For so long, he had prayed for this moment, the moment she’d remember, but now that it was here, it hurt more than he ever imagined.

“You… you remember?” he whispered, taking a step toward her.

She nodded slowly, tears sliding down her cheeks.

“I stayed here for hours,” she said, her voice distant.

“And it started… piece by piece. My memories. My life. I saw myself, Kristine Sanchez. My apartment, my best friend Lianne, my work abroad. My dreams. Everything came back, like film reels rewinding. And then…”

She looked at him “You. You came back to me. But not as the man I loved.”

Banjo’s throat tightened. “Kristine..."

“Don’t,” she cut him off. “Even though I was always busy with my career, I gave you all that was left of me. I was in love with you, Banjo. Madly. And you...”

She swallowed, her voice cracking. “You started a life with someone else.”

Banjo’s lips parted, but no words came. He wanted to explain, to defend himself, but guilt pressed down on him like an anchor. He took a breath, shaky and uneven.

“The beginning and end of all this is me,” he said finally, his voice rough. “I’m the only one to blame. I hurt you both. I married Kristine Gomez because I got her pregnant. I told myself I was doing the right thing, being responsible. But when you left… I realized I’d lost something I could never replace.”

He turned toward the woman who stood behind him — Kristine Gomez. His wife, her face was pale, soft light touching her features, as if the mist itself mourned for her.

“When she left,” Banjo continued, “I tried to forget. I tried to love you right, Kristine. You gave me a home, a son, a reason to keep breathing. But every time I looked at you, I saw my failure. I saw the man I wasn’t.”

Tears streamed down his face. “I made you suffer. I saw your sadness, your distance… and I did nothing. Until it was too late.”

Kristine Gomez’s lips quivered, her eyes glassy with emotion. Her voice came out small, trembling.

“You think I didn’t know?” she whispered. “Every night, I felt it. The emptiness beside me. The way your eyes searched for something that wasn’t me. I kept pretending you still loved me... that maybe, if I stayed long enough, you’d remember why you married me.”

Her hand touched her chest. “But I was wrong. I stayed, and I broke piece by piece. Until one night, I couldn’t bear it anymore.”

Banjo dropped to his knees, sobbing. “I’m sorry, love… I’m sorry for everything. I was selfish, blind. I didn’t deserve either of you.”

Kristine Gomez knelt down with him, her fingers brushing his cheek. There was no anger in her eyes... only sorrow, deep and endless.

“I was a weak wife and mother,” she said softly. “But I never stopped loving you. I thought my death would set you free… but it only trapped you in guilt.” Her voice trembled.

“So, please… forgive me, too. For leaving you. For leaving our son, Yuan.”

Banjo’s sobs deepened. He reached for her, but his hand passed through... she was fading, her edges blurring in the light. The mist was reclaiming her.

"No… no, please! Not again!” Banjo shouted. “I can’t lose you twice!”

Kristine Gomez smiled sadly. "You were never meant to keep us both,” she whispered. “The mist gave you a chance to heal. Don’t waste it by choosing one over the other. Love what remains. Love yourself, and our son.”

Her figure flickered, a wisp of light, a whisper of warmth, before she vanished completely, leaving behind only the faint scent of jasmine and tears.

The silence that followed was unbearable.

Banjo’s chest heaved as he fell forward, palms pressed into the damp earth. The world felt heavier, quieter, and lonelier.

Then... a hand touched his shoulder.

Kristine Sanchez.

Her face was streaked with tears, but her eyes... her eyes were steady, knowing.

“She’s right,” she whispered. “You can’t keep living in between the past and what’s left of it. You can’t keep punishing yourself for being human and alive.”

Banjo looked up at her, eyes red. “You don’t understand… I destroyed everything I touched. You, her, our son...”

“You didn’t destroy us,” Kristine said, her voice soft but firm. “You broke… but you loved. That’s what makes it human. Pain doesn’t erase love, Banjo. It just reshapes it.”

Kristine Sanchez knelt beside him, their faces inches apart.The mist thinned around them, the air warmer now, like forgiveness had found its way through.

“So what happens now?” he asked quietly.

Kristine took a trembling breath.

“Now,” she said, “we live with what’s left... and love what remains.”

Banjo closed his eyes. He felt her hand in his... warm, real. For the first time in years, his heart felt both full and hollow, whole and broken, all at once. He whispered her name... both of them, that is l like a prayer. "Kristine.”

And in that fragile moment, it didn’t matter which one she was, a mistress, wife, or memory ... because she was everything he had lost and everything he still had the courage to love.