They’d been circling the end for months—one craving intimacy that never came, the other crushed under the weight of holding everything together. Tonight, it all comes to a head. Boxes packed, keys on the counter, voices raised with anger over what was missing and what was too much. But before the final goodbye, there’s a pause—one last kiss, tender and aching, the kind that reminds them of why they tried in the first place. In the quiet that follows, the question lingers: when love ends, what pieces do we choose to leave behind?