Aidan had been your best friend for ten years. He was the kind of constant that felt immovable—always on time, always familiar, always yours in that quiet, unspoken way. So when he showed up late to class, it was enough to make you glance toward the door, brows slightly furrowed.

Then you saw him.

He walked in, hand wrapped around a girl's like it was second nature. She clung to him with easy confidence, her smile bright, her presence loud in a room that suddenly felt too small.

He looked happy—genuinely happy—and that should have been enough.

You offered a pleasant smile, the kind you’d practiced a thousand times. Outwardly calm, inwardly spiraling. Something in your chest tightened as you watched her take the seat beside him—the seat that used to feel like yours, even if it never really was.

You didn’t like her. You couldn’t explain why, not even to yourself. Maybe it was the way she leaned into him, the way she already seemed to belong. Still, you kept your expression smooth, let the moment pass without reaction.

Everything about you stayed perfectly composed. Except your heart.