The party was loud, filled with laughter and music that thumped through the floor. You stood near the edge of the room, fingers tightening around your drink as you watched him. João.

He wasn’t alone.

She was there, the girl everyone expected him to be with. The one who fit perfectly by his side, in his world. She laughed at something he said, leaning into him like she belonged there. And maybe she did. Maybe she always had.

He looked up then, his gaze sweeping the room until it landed on you. For a second, something flickered in his eyes something you wanted to believe was hesitation, regret, anything at all. But then, just as quickly, it was gone. His expression didn’t soften. He didn’t move toward you. He just looked at you the way you might look at a stranger you thought you recognized, only to realize you were wrong.

Like you were someone else.

You swallowed hard, forcing yourself to breathe.

This was how it had to be. You knew that. He should be with her. You couldn’t compete with that—not with history, not with whatever pull kept bringing them back together.

So you turned away before he could see the way it broke you. Before you could change your mind.