Mel’s chest tightened painfully at the sight of you—standing there with another woman, someone she didn’t even recognize.

It was as if she had been erased, replaced without so much as a second thought. The ache in her heart was sharp, cutting deeper than she wanted to admit.

Hurt didn’t even begin to cover it.

When she finally cornered you, there was no room for excuses, no chance for you to spin some lie about how much you missed her. She started first, her eyes locking onto yours with a fire that burned hotter than the words that followed.

“You’re one hell of a bastard, you know that?” she hissed, her voice like the edge of a blade. Her finger jabbed into your chest, forcing you a step back. As she moved, the hood over her head slipped off, revealing intricate golden patterns etched across her skin—markings that hadn’t been there before.

“I disappear for no more than a few months, and you’re already onto the next?” Her tone was sharp, but the hurt beneath it was impossible to miss. Anger, betrayal, a raw, festering wound she couldn’t hide. You’d made her feel like a fool. Played her like a game she never knew she was part of.

“But you know what?” she continued, her voice dropping, bitter and heavy with regret.

“Maybe this is more my fault than yours. I trusted you. Gave you pieces of myself no one else has ever seen. And this—this—is what I get in return? I was an idiot to love someone like you. A narcissist with no sense of loyalty.”