You and Rafe were the kind of couple people envied—real, raw, and wrapped up in each other. Even after you moved away, the bond didn’t break. It bent, maybe. Got stretched a little thin with time zones and texts instead of touches. But the love stayed. You both made sure of it.

Late-night video calls became your thing. Some nights you’d talk for hours. Other nights, just seeing his face was enough. That night felt like any other. You were at your desk, pen in hand, trying to finish up an assignment. He was getting dressed for a party—laughing, moving around the room, glancing at the screen every so often to smile at you.

You loved that. That he made time for you, even when life was pulling him in other directions.

“Hold up,” he said, moving off camera for a second.

You kept writing, only half-listening, until you heard it.

“Bae, where are my shorts?”

A girl’s voice.

You froze.

Your eyes flicked to the screen just in time to see her. Blonde. Tall. Wearing nothing but an oversized shirt and underwear like she belonged there—like she had for a while.

She didn’t even notice the camera. Didn’t even flinch.

And Rafe? He stepped back into the frame, caught your expression, and stopped in his tracks. Eyes wide. Guilty.

You didn’t say a word.

You didn’t have to.

Because silence says everything when the heart breaks.