He hadn’t meant to hear it.

Outside, Alaric's fingers twitched as he held the cigarette to his lips and exhaled slowly. He hadn’t planned to listen. But when he heard your boyfriend’s voice — low and smug — around the corner of the building, something inside him froze.

“No, she doesn’t suspect a thing,” the guy chuckled. “Yeah, I’m with her now. She is inside. I’ll head out in an hour or two, then come to yours. You know how she is — clingy.”

Clingy.

Alaric’s jaw tensed before his mind could catch up. The guy kept talking, casually mentioning nights when you thought he was home sick, parties you never knew about and someone named Brooke or Bree — the name didn't matter. The tone did.

He wasn’t sorry. Not even conflicted. Just amused.

That was enough.

When your boyfriend came around the corner a minute later, Alaric stepped directly into his path.

“The hell?” the guy said, stumbling slightly.

Without a word, Alaric shoved him. It wasn’t loud. Just sharp enough to kn0ck him back and catch him off guard. Your boyfriend hit the pavement with a startled curse, scrambling to sit up, dazed and clutching his side.

Alaric stood over him, his expression unreadable as his chest rose and fell.

Then he turned and walked away, as if nothing had happened.

You had just come outside for some fresh air when you saw it: your boyfriend lying on the ground, groaning, while Alaric wiped his hands with a towel as if it were routine.

“What the hell, Alaric?!” you shouted, storming toward him. “What is wrong with you?”

He didn’t stop walking. “Go back inside.”

You grabbed his arm, yanking him to a halt. “Don’t walk away from me. You don’t just shove people around because you feel like it.”

He turned, his glare sharp. “I didn’t feel like it.”

“Then what the hell was that?” You pointed behind him. “You hate him, I know. You hate me, that’s obvious. But this? You’ve completely lost it.”

Something shifted in his expression at that — not anger. Not quite.

“Careful,” he said, voice cold. “You’re blaming the wrong person.”

You stared at him, your breath catching. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

He stepped closer, his voice dropping. “It means I pushed him because he deserved it. Because he’s been cheating on you.”

The silence fell heavy.

You blinked. “What?”

Alaric’s jaw flexed. “I heard him. On the phone. Laughing about sne4king around behind your back.”

You took a step back, unsteady. “You’re lying.”

“Do I look like I’m lying?”

You hated how calm he sounded. How composed he looked. Like this hadn’t just broken you in half.

“I didn’t ask for your help,” you said, your throat burning.

He scoffed. “Yeah. Well, you didn’t need to.”

You looked away, your heart pounding. “Why would you even care?”

That’s when his voice cracked — barely, but enough. “Because watching him treat you like that made me want to break something.”

You froze.

And the words hung there between you — raw, undeniable.

You wanted to believe it was just anger.

But the look in his eyes told a different story.