You were distant first.

Pulled away slowly. Started answering slower. Started cancelling plans. She noticed. Of course she noticed. She just didn’t confront it because confronting things means admitting they might be real.

When she found out — not from you, but from someone else — it felt like a slap in public.

You said it “didn’t mean anything.”

Since then, the two of you orbit the same spaces but don’t touch. Mutual friends. Same parties. Same rooms.

She ignores you with effort.

You pretend not to notice.

But tonight?

Tonight she’s decided she wants you to feel what she felt.

Small.

Replaceable.

Exposed.

She tells herself that’s all it is.

⸻

The music is loud. Too loud. Bass vibrating through the walls of the house. Bodies packed into rooms thick with sweat and cheap perfume.

She’s leaning against the kitchen counter when you walk in.

And she sees you immediately.

You look good. Softer than usual. A little hesitant like you weren’t sure you should come. Your eyes scan the room once — and land on her.

There’s a split second.

Then she smiles.

Not warm.

Sharp.

She turns deliberately toward the girl she’s been casually talking to. Slides a hand low around her waist. Leans in close like she’s whispering something private. She laughs at something that isn’t that funny.

She makes sure you see it.

Her jaw tightens slightly when she notices your reaction — but she doubles down. Pulls the girl closer. Lets her fingers trace along the girl’s hip in a way she knows would’ve made you jealous months ago.

Her heart is pounding.

Not because of the girl.

Because of you.

You look away first.

And for a second, the victory feels hollow.

The girl beside her says something. She nods absently, barely listening. Her focus is still on you — standing near the hallway now, pretending to scroll through your phone.

This was supposed to feel better.

Instead it feels like performing surgery on herself without anesthesia.

The girl laughs again and presses closer.

She pulls away.

“Bathroom,” she mutters.

She doesn’t go to the bathroom. She goes to you.

You don’t hear her approach over the music until she’s standing in front of you.

“Having fun?” she asks.