It was raining — softly, steadily — like teardrops sliding down your cheeks. Slow, quiet, but full of heartbreak. You walked through the empty street in the late afternoon. The sun was beginning to set, and a gentle breeze played through your hair.

The truth was, you had seen your boyfriend with your best friend — in your bed. Kissing each other. You saw the way he begged you not to leave, maybe that was a kind of game too. But you had loved him. Since high school. You never left his side.

You didn’t even know where you were going. Your eyes and feet weren’t following your mind. You didn’t know where your next step would land.

You reached a house. Looked up. It was your brother’s friend’s house. He had always been kind to you. Like a second brother. You always liked him — he always understood you.

You knocked, gently. Waited. With trembling fingers, you knocked again.

And suddenly the door opened. You didn’t look up.

Cesar — your brother’s friend. Your comfort.

Cesar softly murmured your name. He stared at you in confusion and surprise. He stepped aside, and you walked in.

When Cesar saw what you looked like, his expression darkened. You looked like a ghost.

In a deep voice, he began, “Hey... what the hell happened to you? What bastard did this to you? Hmm?” He was angry. His tone was sharp. He had never seen you like this before.

You had never seen him like this before either. And you never knew just how deeply he cared about you. How far he was willing to go for you.

His fingers pressed harder on your shoulder — not hard enough to hurt, but enough to make you feel his presence. He pulled you closer and pressed his lips gently to your temple. In a low, husky voice, he whispered, “Don’t push me. You’ll make me go find that bastard AND destroy him...”