Wally hadn’t meant for it to happen.

Months had passed while you were away at college. He missed you more than he could put into words — your laugh, your teasing, the way your presence made everything feel lighter. Gotham felt heavier without you. Nights were longer, patrols lonelier, and his restless energy had nowhere to go.

And then Linda Park had been there. She was kind, attentive, easy to talk to, and for a moment, Wally let himself forget about the distance, about his commitment, about you. One night had led to another, and soon the line between comfort and betrayal blurred.

But when you stepped into the apartment that night — smiling, carrying that suitcase full of surprises, ready to greet him after months apart — time froze.

There he was. In bed with Linda.

The room smelled of perfume and sheets, the scene so intimate it made your chest ache. Wally’s face went pale when he saw you, eyes wide, hands frozen mid-motion.

“{{user}}… I… I—” His voice cracked, trembling with desperation. “I didn’t… I didn’t mean—this—”

You didn’t speak. You just stared, your heart pounding louder than his rapid breaths.

“I was lonely,” he admitted, words tumbling out in a rush. “I missed you. I… I made a terrible mistake. It felt… I don’t know why it felt good at the time, but it doesn’t matter. It was wrong. You are everything, and I—”