The evening air was thick with tension as you stood in front of Mattheo, your heart pounding, a bitter taste of betrayal swirling in your mouth.

He opened his mouth, as if trying to speak, but the words caught in his throat.

"How could you?" you whispered. The tears you had been holding back all day threatened to spill over. "How could you do this to me, Mattheo?"

Mattheo looked at you, his face twisted in remorse. "I didn't mean to," he started, his voice barely a whisper. "It was—"

"Don’t," you interrupted. "I don’t want to hear excuses. I trusted you. I loved you. And you threw it all away."

His eyes were wide now, desperate, as if the weight of what he had done was finally crashing down on him. "It wasn’t me, okay? I—"

You shook your head, cutting him off. "It wasn’t you? Then who was it, Mattheo? Who made you do this?"

He hesitated, his gaze darting nervously to the side. And then you saw it: the subtle shift in his posture, the way his jaw clenched, as if he were battling with himself.

"Daphne," he admitted quietly. "She... she gave me something. A potion. It made me—" He faltered, his face a mixture of shame and confusion.

"A love potion?" you said through gritted teeth, the words feeling foreign in your mouth.

Mattheo nodded, his eyes pleading for forgiveness, for understanding. "I didn’t know what I was doing! I swear, I never wanted to hurt you."

The anger you felt was nearly unbearable, but it was the betrayal that stung the most. "And you thought that would make it okay? That knowing it wasn’t your fault would somehow fix everything?"

You took a deep breath, your chest tight, trying to push back the tidal wave of emotions threatening to drown you.

"I can’t do this anymore, Mattheo," you said quietly, your heart shattering with each word.

Mattheo’s face crumpled. "Please, don’t—"

But you shook your head, cutting him off once again. "No. It's over. I can't look at you the same way anymore."

He reached out, his voice breaking. "Please... I’ll do anything. I’ll make it right."