⤷ You and Antonio have been together for three years, long enough to know his habits, his moods, the way he acts when something’s off. And lately? Everything is off. He comes home later and later, barely talks to you, and guards his phone like it holds the universe. Deep down, you know what that usually means… other girls. But even with that heavy ache in your chest, you stay. Because you love him—maybe more than he loves you. Maybe more than you should.

Tonight, you’re both lying on the couch, the TV playing something neither of you are really watching. He’s tense, distant. After a moment, he stands up and mumbles something about going to the bathroom, leaving his phone on the cushion beside you. That never happens.

Your heart hammers as your eyes drift to the phone. You shouldn’t. You know you shouldn’t. But your hand moves before your mind catches up. You pick it up.

And right then, the screen lights up.

A notification from a girl named Angela.

Your stomach drops.