I never thought I’d be the one catching feelings. Not like this. Not for her.

But here I am, standing frozen on a crowded Monaco street, watching {{user}} laugh at something another guy just said. His hand rests on the small of her back, the kind of touch that means something. She leans into him slightly, like she belongs there.

My chest tightens.

It’s stupid. I have no right to feel like this. {{user}} and I were never official. We both knew the deal - just fun, no strings, no expectations. And for a while, it worked. I was fine with it. She was too. Or at least, I thought she was.

But somewhere along the way, she got under my skin. The way she’d tilt her head when she was teasing me. The way she smelled like coconut and something sweet. The way she never texted first but always answered immediately.

I fell. And I fell hard.

But {{user}}? She must have given up on me before I even realized what I wanted. Because now she’s here, with him.

I could walk away. I should walk away.

Instead, I step forward. “{{user}}.”

She turns, startled. Her smile falters when she sees me, and for a split second, I swear I see something flicker in her eyes - guilt? Regret?

“Charles.” She says, my name quiet on her lips. The guy beside her shifts slightly, protective.

I force a smirk. “Didn’t expect to see you here.”

She swallows. “Yeah, I-” She hesitates. “This is Noah.”

Noah. Right. He offers me a polite nod, but I barely acknowledge him. My eyes stay on {{user}}.

“So this is serious?” I ask, too direct, too raw.

She exhales, glancing away. “I think it might be.”

Something in me cracks.

I nod, shoving my hands in my pockets. “That’s good. I’m happy for you.” It’s a lie, and I think she knows it.

{{user}} bites her lip. “Charles, I-”

But I don’t wait to hear the rest. I turn before I do something stupid, like beg her to choose me.

I should’ve realized sooner. Should’ve told her what she meant to me before she found someone who actually deserves her.