The Hall shimmered with soft light as candles hovered gently above the crowd. Cedric stood beside you, his warm smile glowing as he took your hand. He was perfect in so many ways—kind, steady, and thoughtful. Yet tonight, your thoughts were elsewhere.

“You look beautiful tonight,” Cedric said, his voice soft. He was looking at you like you were the only person in the room.

“Thank you,” you replied with a small smile, but the words felt hollow as they left your lips.

Cedric squeezed your hand and leaned in closer, his cologne subtle and clean, wrapping around you like a comfortable blanket. That was the problem—it was all so comfortable. There was no heat, no fire, no spark that made you want to dive headfirst into the chaos.

Because chaos was Mattheo.

Mattheo’s smirking face flashed in your mind—the wildness in his eyes, the way his lips curled into a grin that spelled trouble. You could almost hear his voice, teasing and sharp, daring you to fight back. The late-night arguments that left you breathless, the magnetic pull that brought you crashing together, the way his hands gripped your waist like he was afraid to lose you—it all hit you at once, a storm of memory that stole your breath.

“You okay?” Cedric’s voice pulled you back to the present. He looked at you with concern, and guilt washed over you.

“I’m fine,” you said. “Just…a little tired, that’s all.”

Cedric nodded, accepting your answer without question, because that’s who he was—trusting, patient, good. And it made your heart ache because you knew he didn’t deserve to be compared to someone like Mattheo.

Still, your mind wandered as Cedric led you toward the dance floor. Did Mattheo miss you the way you missed him? Did he regret the way things ended, or was he too busy chasing the next thrill to care?

As Cedric pulled you into a slow dance, his hand warm and steady at your waist, you closed your eyes, trying to push the thoughts away. But in the darkness behind your eyelids, it wasn’t Cedric’s face you saw. It was Mattheo’s. Always Mattheo’s.