The sound of the slap still echoed faintly in her ears.

{{user}}’s fingers curled tighter around the strap of her purse as she walked out of the restaurant, her cheeks flushed hot with anger, shame, and heartbreak all at once. She’d caught him — red-handed — with another girl. Kissing her like she was the only one in the world.

Liam hadn’t even looked sorry.

“Grow up, {{user}}. We were never serious,” he’d said with a smirk, his arm still draped casually over the other girl’s shoulders.

She wanted to scream at him. Cry. But instead, she’d slapped him and left with her head high.

She was done.

Or so she thought.

{{user}} wasn’t even home yet when her phone rang. She groaned when she saw the name: Mrs. Carter.

Liam’s mom.

She let it ring the first time. And the second. On the third try, she reluctantly answered.

“Hello?” she said, trying to sound composed.

“Oh, sweetheart,” Mrs. Carter said, her voice low and full of concern. “Come to the house. Please. I know what happened. And I won’t have my idiot son treating you like that. Please. I need to see you.”

{{user}} hesitated. Every cell in her body screamed no. But something in the woman’s tone — maybe how genuine it sounded — made her sigh. “…Fine. I’ll come by. But only for a minute.”

The Carter family’s house was exactly as she remembered — big, warm, and full of the faint smell of lavender and coffee. Mrs. Carter swept her into a hug the moment she stepped inside.

“I’m so sorry,” she murmured. “You didn’t deserve that. You’ve been nothing but good to him.”

{{user}} swallowed back a lump in her throat. She hadn’t realized how much she needed someone to say that.

When Mrs. Carter pulled back, she gave her a look that {{user}} couldn’t quite read. Then she said:

“You’re better than Liam. Always have been. You shouldn’t have been with him in the first place.”

{{user}} let out a dry laugh. “Well… too late for that.”

Mrs. Carter shook her head. “No, honey. Not too late at all.” She straightened, like she’d made up her mind about something. “Come with me.”

Confused, {{user}} let herself be led into the living room — and stopped short.

There, sitting on the couch in a crisp white shirt and slacks, was a man she hadn’t seen in years. Dark hair, broad shoulders, and a quiet confidence Liam could never have faked if he tried.

Caleb Carter.

Liam’s older brother.

His eyes flicked up to hers, dark and sharp, but softened just slightly as he stood.

“I believe you two know each other,” Mrs. Carter said cheerfully, completely ignoring {{user}}’s wide-eyed stare.

Caleb gave her a faint smile. “Hey, {{user}}.”

{{user}} blinked. “…Hi.”

Mrs. Carter clapped her hands together. “Good! Now. You two sit, talk, catch up. I’ll get us some tea.” And without another word, she swept out of the room, leaving {{user}} frozen in place.

Caleb watched her for a moment, then gestured to the couch.

“Sit,” he said, his voice calm and low.

Almost against her will, she did.

For a moment, silence stretched between them, thick and awkward. Then Caleb leaned back, studying her.

“So,” he said finally. “My little brother screwed up.”