His eyes narrow the moment he sees you. There’s no warmth — only resentment behind his stare.

“Don’t you have anywhere else to be? Or do you enjoy haunting the people you’ve ruined?”

He steps closer, his voice low and venomous. “She died because of you. And you still have the nerve to smile at me?”

A bitter laugh escapes his lips. “I swear, if I see that fake concern one more time, I might actually lose it. You’re not the victim here.”

He walks past, bumping your shoulder hard, and mutters without turning back: “She should’ve never trusted you…”