Killing for Manhood
Copyright© 2026 by Heel
Chapter 7
Night came quietly, the way it always did—without asking permission.
Thomas waited until the village slept. He watched lamps go dark one by one, listened to voices fade, counted his breaths until fear steadied into resolve. He had tried to leave her behind. He had tried to let distance finish what guilt could not.
It had failed.
He slipped between buildings like a shadow, barefoot on packed earth. When he reached the small house near the well, he paused, heart pounding so hard he feared it would wake her. Light glowed faintly through the window.
She was awake.
He tapped once. Then again, softer.
Silence. Then the door creaked open just enough for her face to appear—drawn, tired, eyes sharp with alarm. When she saw him, color drained from her cheeks.
“You,” she whispered.
“I know,” he said. “I’m sorry. I had to come.”
Her crutches leaned against the wall behind her. She stood braced with one hand on the doorframe, weight carefully balanced on her good leg. Even standing still cost her effort.
“You shouldn’t be here,” she said. “If they see you—”
“I know.”
For a moment, neither of them moved. Then she stepped back—just enough to let him inside.
The room was small. A narrow bed. A basin. A chair with folded cloth. Nothing that belonged to someone who planned to stay long in the world.
He shut the door gently behind him.
“I don’t want forgiveness,” he said immediately, words spilling out rough and broken. “I don’t deserve it. But I can’t go on knowing you are here, hurting, alone, because of me.”
Her jaw tightened. “You already left once.”
“Yes,” he said. “And it nearly killed me.”
She looked away.
“I think about you every day,” he continued, voice shaking now. “About the way you walk. About the sound you made. I carry it.” He pressed his hand to his chest. “I carry you.”
She laughed softly—no humor in it. “That doesn’t make anything.”
“No,” he said. “But this does.”
He dropped to his knees in front of her—not in submission, but because standing felt impossible.
“I love you,” he said. “I don’t know how. I don’t know why. I only know it’s true, and that staying away is worse than dying.”