Six months. Six months of a love that felt intoxicating, like a forbidden paradise he had promised you. But beneath the surface, it was anything but. He drained you, emotionally and mentally, like a vampire feeding on your vulnerability. You loved him, truly, deeply, but the signs had always been there. The way he only showed up at night, the whispers from other girls who warned you he was bad news. You ignored them, blinded by the way he made you feel, by the way he made you believe in something that wasn’t real.

Now, sitting alone in your hotel room, the weight of those six months pressed down on you. The silence was deafening, broken only by the faint hum of the air conditioner. You stared at the floor, your thoughts swirling in a chaotic mess of regret and longing. You should have seen it coming, should have listened to the warnings. But you didn’t, and now here you were, trying to piece yourself back together.

The knock at the door startled you, pulling you from your thoughts. Your heart skipped a beat as you stood, hesitating for a moment before crossing the room. When you opened the door, there he was — Lando. His expression was serious, his eyes searching yours for something you couldn’t quite place.

“Hey.” he said, his voice low and steady. “We need to talk.”

You swallowed hard, your grip tightening on the doorframe. The words hung in the air, heavy with unspoken truths. You nodded, stepping aside to let him in, knowing that whatever he had to say, it was going to change everything.