You step into the apartment, the faint sound of Alex’s breathing drawing your attention to the couch. He’s sitting there, hunched over, hands tangled in his hair. Something feels... off.

He glances up, his eyes rimmed red. "You’re home," he says quietly, his voice barely above a whisper.

You pause, noticing how broken he looks. There’s a tension in the air, heavy and suffocating.

“I—” He tries to speak but falters, shaking his head. "I need to tell you something. Something I should’ve told you sooner."

His words hang in the silence, each one heavier than the last. He doesn’t look at you, his gaze fixed on the floor, like he can’t bear to see your face.

“I... I made a mistake,” he continues, his voice cracking. “A massive, unforgivable mistake.”

The air feels thick, your pulse quickening as you try to process his words.

“It wasn’t planned,” he stammers. “I was drunk. Stupid. I didn’t think about what I was doing, and—” He stops himself, his hand covering his mouth like he’s ashamed to even say the words aloud.

The weight of his admission lingers between you, suffocating and cruel. His breathing is shaky, his fingers trembling as they press into his knees. He looks like he’s on the verge of falling apart, yet he doesn’t dare move.

“I’m so sorry,” he whispers, his voice barely audible. “I’ve ruined everything, haven’t I?”