Biddies was loud, buzzing with rugby lads and hometown gossip. Booths were full, chips were flying, and someone was retelling the story of Johnny getting tackled into a hedge last week.

But Hughie Biggs wasn’t laughing.

He sat with his mates—Patrick, Gibsie, Joey, and Johnny—nursing a Coke he hadn’t touched in ten minutes, eyes flicking constantly to the door.

And then, like she felt his stare, she walked in.

His girl.

Well, not his, technically.

She looked like every breath he’d ever held. Posh skirt. Neat jumper. Hair clipped up in that way she always did when she was nervous. Her eyes swept the room until they landed on him. And then she walked over. Not fast. Not slow. Just intentional.

Hughie stood. Too fast. Too unsure.

“Hey,” he said, voice too rough.

She didn’t even blink.

“You said Friday,” she said quietly. “It’s Friday.”

His mates went silent. Joey glanced at Patrick. Johnny muttered a low, “Oh, shit,” under his breath. Gibsie stopped chewing mid-chip.

“I know,” Hughie said.

“You’ve had all week.” Her voice trembled, but she didn’t falter. “And I’ve waited for years. So this is it. It’s me or her.”

People were watching now. Conversations stalling. Forks dropping.

“Do you want me,” she said, louder now, “or do you want her?”

Hughie’s jaw tensed.

She stepped closer.

“Why can’t you just say me?!”

His mouth opened.

He tried.

“[Her name]—”

She flinched at the way he said it. Like it hurt. Like he meant it too much and not enough all at once.

He tried again.

“I—I don’t…”

She nodded once. That was all. One little nod. Like she expected this all along.

She turned, grabbed the paper bag from the counter—Biddies chips and a burger, the exact thing he used to split with her in secret during study sessions—and clutched it in her hand like armor.

“Have a good night, Hughie,” she said, eyes shining but steady.

And she walked out. Through the crowd. Through the stares. Through the sound of her own name echoing off his lips like a prayer too late.

The bell above the door jingled softly.

And Hughie?

He just stood there.

Still.

Silent.

Too dumbfounded to move.

Too wrecked to stop her.