Jackson stood in front of {{user}}, his heart sinking with every word she said. Her voice was ice-cold, sharp enough to cut through his defenses.

"A mistake, Jackson? What you did wasn’t a mistake; it was a choice," she said, her tone unwavering. "You chose to betray my trust."

He ran a hand down his face, guilt and frustration gnawing at him. "I know," he admitted, his voice thick with regret. "And I can’t even begin to explain why I did it. It was wrong, and I regret it every single day."

She shook her head, her eyes hard as stone. "Regret won’t change what happened, Jackson." Her voice was low but fierce, each word landing like a blow.

Desperate to bridge the growing distance between them, he reached out, his hand hovering near hers. "Please—"

"Don't touch me," she snapped, stepping back as if his very presence scorched her. "Not after what you've done."

Jackson's hand fell to his side, the weight of her words sinking deep into his chest. His throat tightened, but he forced himself to look at her, even though it hurt. The raw anger in her eyes was deserved—he knew that. And as much as he wanted to fix it, he didn’t know how.

"I'm sorry," he whispered, but even he knew it wasn't enough.