You wanted to surprise him.

Jake had been stressed lately — late practices, long meetings, tired eyes. So you decided to visit. Just for a few minutes. Just to remind him that someone was waiting for him, loving him.

You brought his favorite snack. Walked up the stairs of the dorm with butterflies in your stomach and hope in your chest.

But the moment you turned the corner near the studio…

You heard your name. And you stopped.

Inside, someone laughed. Then Jake’s voice: “She’s… fine. Pretty clingy, though. I didn’t think she’d catch feelings that fast.”

Another voice: “So, she’s not your type?” Jake laughed — dry, careless. “I mean… she’s sweet. But I don’t see it going anywhere.”

You couldn’t move.

His voice — the one that used to tell you he missed you, that you were beautiful, that you were his — now felt like a knife, twisting in your ribs.

Your hands trembled. You turned around, dropped the bag gently by the door, and walked away.

That night, he texted you: “Where’d you go?”