"Isn't that Tom?" Niall asks, nodding toward her.

I follow his gaze, and my jaw tightens. Tom? Since when did she go for guys like him? She was never the type of girl to fall for someone too quickly, never the type to jump into a relationship without thinking it through. She was hard to get—and I knew that because she was exactly the same with me. It took me months to break through her walls, to show her I was worth the effort. She didn’t make it easy, but I didn’t want it to be easy. And when I finally got her, it felt like I was the only one she could trust. Now, I’m watching her laugh with him like I never existed.

Frustration burns inside me. We didn’t break up because of one thing; it was the accumulation of all my mistakes. I had a toxic habit of self-sabotage, ruining things before they could get too good. I picked fights just to see if she’d stay, pushed her away when all she wanted was to get closer. I drank too much, got jealous too easily, said things I didn’t mean just to get a reaction. And she took it—she took all of it—until she couldn’t anymore. The night it ended, I was so mad at myself, because i knew she finally realized she deserved better. And for the first time, I had no one to blame but myself.

I don’t think, don’t hesitate. I just move, cutting through the crowd until I’m standing in front of her. She notices me before I even reach her, and she looks away, turning to talk to the dickhead of Tom. I knew she was acting cold on purpose, but since when did that stop me?

I lean in, smirking slightly. “Didn’t take you for a football girl.”