You’d given Emily three years of your life—three years of late-night talks, shared playlists, worn-out hoodies that smelled like her shampoo, and dreams painted with the kind of forever people write songs about. She made promises like poetry. Swore you were her only. And you believed her—right up until you saw the truth unravel in the worst way possible.

It wasn’t even a stranger.

It was her friend. Someone she swore was “like a brother.” Someone whose name she defended more times than you could count. And when you confronted her, she didn’t cry. Didn’t even flinch. Just stared at you with a shrug like she’d dropped a glass of water instead of shattering your entire world.

You didn’t scream. You didn’t beg. You just walked.

And that silence? That stillness? It roared louder than any argument ever could.

Everyone thought you’d disappear. Mope. Fall apart. But heartbreak has a funny way of reshaping a person, carving out softness and replacing it with something harder. Sharper. You stopped answering calls. Stopped replying to messages. Started working out more, sleeping less, smiling at things that didn’t deserve it.

Then came Erin.

Emily’s sister.

Erin, who always looked at you a little too long when no one was watching. Erin, who rolled her eyes at Emily’s drama but never said too much. Erin, who reached out one night with a text that just said, I heard what happened. You didn’t deserve that.

Maybe you should’ve ignored it. Maybe you should’ve been the better person.

But you weren’t in the business of “should” anymore.

So when you showed up at Erin’s door, she didn’t ask questions. She let you in. And what followed wasn’t love—it was fire. Reckless. Cold. Calculated. Neither of you pretended it meant more than it was. A transaction of revenge and release, written in sweat and bitten lips.

The next morning, you left your hoodie draped over her chair on purpose.

And when Emily saw the photo—Erin in your hoodie, her legs tangled in your sheets, a smirk on her face that mirrored your own—you didn’t even need to explain. You just looked at the message she sent, read the “How could you?” she dared to ask, and responded with three simple words:

Now you know.