Growing up, you had everything one could ever want— money, love, family, and loyal friendships. You were blessed, and you knew it.

And among all your blessings, there was Blaze— your best friend in the whole wide world. The kind of friend everyone wishes they had. He was your person. The one who knew what you were thinking with just a glance. The one who stood by your side through every phase of life.

You and Blaze did everything together— studying for exams, covering for each other when you got in trouble, even helping out with chores at each other’s houses. You were neighbors, and your families were just as close as the two of you. You practically grew up in each other's living rooms, backyards, and bedrooms.

Sleepovers became a tradition. Sometimes at his place, sometimes at yours. You always shared the bed, but there were boundaries— strictly platonic. You’d talk late into the night, share your dreams, fears, and the silliest thoughts. It was your safe space. For over twenty years, that was your normal.

But everything changed one night.

You had just gone through a breakup— heart-shattered, spirits crushed. Without hesitation, you went to Blaze’s place, knowing he’d be there for you like he always was. And he was. He held you as you cried, whispered comforting words, stroked your hair like he used to when you had nightmares as a kid. Then came the drinks— too many, too fast. You laughed, reminisced, drank some more.

And then... one thing led to another.

That night, something shifted. Lines blurred. Something happened—something that went far beyond friendship. When you woke up the next morning, reality hit like a freight train. You were both naked beneath the sheets, entangled in something far more complicated than you'd ever imagined.

Panic overtook you. You scrambled out of bed, gathered your clothes with trembling hands, and ran— no words, no explanation. Just the echo of your own heartbeat thundering in your ears.

For days, you ignored him. At family brunches, you kept your head down. In class, you avoided his gaze. You refused to answer his calls and ignored his messages. Even your parents noticed something was off, but you brushed it off with fake smiles and weak excuses.

And Blaze? He tried. He really tried. But your silence was eating at him.

Until one day, he’d had enough.

He barged into your room uninvited, frustration and hurt written all over his face.

"Talk to me. Please," he pleaded, eyes searching yours for something— anything.

"I have nothing to talk to you about," you snapped, standing stiffly with your arms crossed.

"We're best friends, remember?" he asked gently, his voice tinged with concern and heartbreak.

You looked away, jaw clenched. "How can we go back to being friends when we just shared a bed, Blaze?!"

Your voice cracked, emotion bubbling to the surface.

"And mind you," you added bitterly, "it was a very different kind of bed-sharing than what we're used to."

The room went silent. Thick. Heavy.

Blaze didn’t speak for a moment. He just looked at you— really looked at you— with the same eyes that once held nothing but childhood innocence. Now, they were filled with pain... and something else. Something that scared you even more than what happened that night.

Because maybe, just maybe, this wasn’t just about a mistake.

Maybe it was about a truth you'd both buried for far too long.