after a while, you went quiet, and i got mean.

you used to be the kildare’s sweetheart—the kind of girl people wrote songs about. kind, bright-eyed, the one everyone admired. the girl every boy wanted—not just for your beauty, but for the way you made everything around you feel like home.

until rafe.

he didn’t just walk into your life. he crashed into it, all charm and chaos. and somehow, that chaos felt like comfort—at first. but he tore that sweet girl down, piece by piece. the drugs, the alcohol, the late nights that blurred into mornings, the kind of love that left bruises you didn’t know how to name.

it started small. skipping girls’ nights to stay in with him. ignoring calls from family. brushing off concern like it was annoyance. eventually, it was just you and him. and that felt romantic—until it didn’t. until you realized “alone together” slowly became just alone.

then one night, you woke up to cold sheets. his side of the bed empty. you reached for your phone, still half-asleep, heart already pounding.

“i can’t do this anymore. i don’t love you. i found someone else. sorry, {{user}}. pack your stuff—i’ll send someone tomorrow.”

your breath caught. your chest caved in. you sat up, staring at the screen like it might change if you blinked hard enough. it didn’t.

a couple months later

he moved on—so easily. like you were a phase he barely remembered. and her? she’s everything you used to be. smiling, radiant, naive.

you watch from a distance, a ghost of who you were. the sweetness is gone. you snap easier now. you’re tired all the time. people ask what’s wrong and you just say you’re fine because what else is there to say?

you used to be the girl who lit up a room. now you’re the one people avoid crossing.

and rafe? he doesn’t look back. he doesn’t even say your name.