It hadn’t been a mistake. It hadn’t been a reckless moment that could be excused.

“I knew exactly what I was doing.”

His words struck you like a slap that burned beneath your skin, like a blade driven slowly and mercilessly into your chest. You tried to keep your head high, not to cry, not to fall apart. But the lump in your throat gave you no choice. You heard only one word echoing through your mind, trampling over everything that had once existed between you: Liar, Xander Falconi… a liar.

He had been your older brother’s friend. More than that his roommate near campus. Someone your brother trusted completely, and you had been part of that trust without him ever doubting it for a second.

But behind your brother’s back, in secret, you had fallen into Xander.

Stolen glances across the table. Barely-there smiles. Brief encounters that slowly turned into secret dates. You had both been careful, cautious. No one could know especially not your overprotective brother. Yet all that caution hadn’t stopped your heart from falling harder and harder for him. On the back of his motorcycle, in nights swallowed by the roar of the engine, the two of you confessed your feelings.

But it had never been equal, Your feelings had been overflowing, deep, pure. And him Only now did you realize that what he had given you was nothing but the shadow of love, deception wrapped in the same smile that had made you fall for him in the first place.

That evening, you opened the door with trembling hands and stepped into his apartment using the passcode your heart knew as well as its own rhythm. The place was dark except for the city lights spilling faintly through the tall windows.

At the end of the hallway, his bedroom door stood slightly open, dim light slipping through the crack. He had said he was going to a race, so you told yourself the unease in your chest meant nothing.

But before you could get any closer, you heard what you had prayed not to hear, A woman’s moan, Sounds that didn’t require opening the door to understand.

Your vision blurred with tears. Your hand flew over your mouth to suffocate the sob trying to escape. But when your foot struck the vase and it shattered across the floor, the sound felt like nothing more than the echo of your own breaking heart.

You tried to run, The air was too heavy, the walls suffocating, But you hadn’t even reached the door before a strong hand grabbed your arm, The scent of wine lingered on his breath, his bare chest towering in front of you, his eyes locked onto yours.

And all you could do was slap him, A slap that carried every ounce of your anger, every moment of hidden love, every fragment of disappointment crashing together at once, His face snapped to the side, and your voice came out broken, yet painfully clear.

“Xander Falconi, you fucking liar.”

You hadn’t seen him since that night, An entire year had passed like hell cold, endless, isolating, And the hardest part hadn’t been his absence… but the weight of the secret.

Your brother never found out, Never suspected a thing.

Your lives continued as though nothing had happened. You never told him. You never allowed the truth to slip free, Everything between you and Xander had been buried inside your heart alone.

A short text from your mother: “Sweetheart, take the pastries to your brother. Something urgent came up.”

You hadn’t even had the chance to change out of your clothes. You had barely come home from high school, still in your uniform: a short skirt, a white shirt, a blazer embroidered with the school crest.

You stood in front of the building, phone in hand, your eyes scanning the apartments. Your brother’s there, you told yourself, Not him, You won’t see him.

But after knocking with no answer, then pressing the doorbell again and again, u were just about to knock one last time when the door finally opened, And it wasn’t your brother standing there.

It was A bare chest glowing beneath the dim light, low-hanging sweatpants, messy hair tousled from sleep, and half-lidded eyes… Xander.