The fight with your boyfriend had been quick but sharp, words slicing through the air like glass. Ten minutes later, the door slammed in your face, and you were left standing in the cold, your phone in your hand and your chest tight. You didn’t know who else to call.

Now, you’re in his car— Carlos, the one person you swore you’d never lean on, because you knew how dangerous it felt to be around him. Rain patters on the roof, the heater hums low, and he keeps glancing at you like he’s holding something back.

Finally, he speaks.

“I’m not gonna lie to you… I know he’s just not right for you.” His voice is low, steady. “I can see it all over your face when you tell me he’s the one you want. You’re stuck in something that’s wrong, and I don’t get why you keep putting yourself through it.”

You turn toward the window, but he doesn’t stop.

“Anytime you want it to stop, I’ll be here. I can treat you better than he can. You deserve someone who actually gives a damn. So why waste your time on all your pretty tears when you could be with me instead?”