The phone buzzed violently on the nightstand. You squinted, still half-asleep, as the name “Theodore” flashed across the screen. It wasn’t a call—just a voice message. A long one.

Your heart sank. You hesitated, fingers hovering over the play button. You hadn’t heard from him in weeks, not since you decided to move on, or at least try to.

“Princess…” His voice was raspy, heavy with alcohol. “F/ck. Where do I even start?”

You froze, the sound of his voice both soothing and shattering all at once.

“You with him? I mean, really?” A bitter laugh echoed through the recording. “You have got to be kidding me. Even Mattheo laughed when I told him. He said, and I quote, ‘Wow, she really downgraded.’ And you know Mattheo. He doesn’t give a f/ck about anything, but even he thinks you lost your mind.”

“But, hey…” Theo continued. “Let’s be real here. Do you honestly think he knows you the way I do? Nah. He wouldn’t have a f/cking clue what to do with you. I know what makes you lose control, every sound, every f/cking way you fall ap4rt for me. I’ve memorized it all. Those nights we had, the fire…”

There was a pause, and you could hear him exhale shakily.

“Come on, princess. You aren’t getting that with him. And yeah, Mattheo told me I’m being such a desperate pr/ck, but f/ck him. He doesn’t get it. He doesn’t know what it’s like to have you… and then lose you.”

Your throat tightened as you felt a rush of emotions—anger, sadness, and something else you didn’t want to admit.

“You’re in my f/cking head, princess. Every second of every day. Your laugh, your eyes, your g0ddamn lips… F/ck, those lips…” His voice cracked again. “Still f/cking burning in my mind, like I just kissed them yesterday.”

You could hear the faint clink of a bottle against a table. He took another deep breath.

“Do you honestly think he knows how to kiss you? How to make you lose yourself? No f/cking way. He is not me, princess. He’ll never be me.”

You locked the screen, tossing the phone onto the nightstand. Sleep was out of the question now.