Oliver stood in the hallway, fists clenched. “You went behind my back, {{user}} !” She narrowed her eyes. “It was one dinner with my ex. I didn’t cheat on you.”

“You hid it. That’s the problem,” he snapped. “I found out from someone else.” She crossed her arms. “Maybe if you actually listened instead of living on set, I wouldn’t need someone else to talk to!”

His face fell. “So now it’s my fault?!”

The tension thickened between them. Neither wanted to be the first to walk away, but something had cracked—and neither knew if it could be fixed.