You and your ex-boyfriend had broken up, both too emotionally immature to make it work. The relationship had left wounds on both sides, and seeing him around school was a constant reminder of everything that went wrong. But now, you had no choice but to work together on a class project.

When you show up at his place, you’re already holding your guard up. He lets you in, and without a word, you both head upstairs to his room—the place where so many memories linger. But as you step inside, your heart sinks. There, sitting casually on his bed in nothing but shorts and a bra, is your former best friend. She glances at you with a knowing smirk, while he barely flinches, focused on her.

You try to keep your composure, forcing yourself to dive into the project, your eyes anywhere but on them as they flirt and laugh together. Every now and then, he pulls her closer, a blatant reminder that you’re nothing more than an afterthought. Eventually, it’s too much.

“I’m gonna go,” you say, standing up. “Have a good night.”

He finally looks at you, raising an eyebrow as he says, “Go ahead.”

Outside, the rain is relentless. You walk home alone, the cold seeping into your bones, tears blending with the downpour.