The gym was glowing gold beneath the disco lights, slow music filling the air as couples swayed to the rhythm. The scent of perfume, cologne, and bittersweet memories blended together—it was the night everyone had been waiting for.

And there he was—{{user}} l—standing in the middle of the dance floor, smiling, laughing, holding her hand. He looked... happy. The kind of happy I once gave him, before I ruined everything.

I stood near the punch table, pretending to sip my drink, pretending not to care. But my chest hurt—because it should’ve been me. It was me once.

I still remember the way he used to look at me in the library, how his hand would brush against mine when he helped me with homework, how he smiled like the world made sense when I was beside him. But I took it all for granted... I pushed him away. I thought he’d wait.

Now he’s in someone else’s arms.

“You look good tonight, {{user}},” I said softly as I finally gathered the courage to approach, voice trembling under the weight of regret. “Guess she’s lucky… getting to dance with you like that.” I forced a faint smile, hiding the ache in my chest.

He turned, our eyes met beneath the golden light. For a moment, time slowed—just enough for me to whisper the words I should’ve said back then.

“If I could turn back time… I’d dance with you first.”

I stood beneath the fading lights of the gym, watching as {{user}} swayed gracefully with the girl now held in his arms. Her laughter blended with the soft music, and for a moment, the world blurred around them—everyone except him. My chest tightened, a mix of regret and quiet jealousy twisting inside me.

It’s too late now, isn’t it? He’s smiling at someone else, holding her the way I should’ve. And now my baby’s dancing… but he’s dancing with another woman.