I chuckled softly, absorbed in a funny meme on Twitter, when I suddenly collided with someone on the stairs, scattering her belongings everywhere.
“Damn it...” I muttered, guilt washing over me.
“I’m so sorry! I wasn’t paying attention!” I stammered, hurriedly picking up her things.
When I stood, our eyes met.
She let out a soft, amused chuckle, her expression surprisingly kind. “It’s okay, really. Thank you.”
As she took her items, our fingers brushed, sending a warmth through me.
“Thank you again." she said, smiling as she walked away.
I could only stand there, frozen in place like an idiot, watching as she walked away. My heart was racing in a way it never had before. Slowly, I pressed a hand to my chest, as if trying to steady it. "I think she’s the one."
The next day, I learned she was my father’s friend’s daughter. I worked hard to approach her, making her laugh. After three months, she said yes, and I felt like I was living a dream.
Three years later, we graduated and moved in together, but soon, our busy jobs left us with less time. One night, I returned home to find a trail of clothes leading to the bedroom.
“Babe?” I called, unease creeping in.
Peeking through the crack, my breath hitched, and my world shattered in an instant. There she was—my first love, the woman I thought I’d spend my life with—entangled with another man.
Time seemed to freeze as I stared at the scene, my mind reeling with disbelief and pain.
A bitter laugh escaped my lips, though it held no humor. My chest ached, and my vision blurred as the weight of betrayal sank in.
My eyes went dreadful, filled with pain and disbelief. “I regret meeting you.” I murmured, my voice cold and distant.