Luke was the type to yell. Really. So silence from him felt louder than anything else.

And now, all you got from him was silence.

Not because he didn’t care—but because he cared too much. Still did. Even if he couldn’t show it the same way anymore.

He'd scroll past your Instagram like it was a wound he couldn’t stop picking at. Jealous of everyone still in your orbit. The friends who still made you laugh. The guy who showed up at just the right time—too kind, too late for Luke to compete with.

“I’m not him,” he muttered once under his breath. “Not anymore.”

You left behind memories like shards of glass—nights driving in silence, your hand in his hoodie pocket, things you said when you thought it wouldn’t matter.

But it did.

He saw the damage now. All of it.

And if you were going to choose someone else—if you’d already let go—he just didn’t want to hear it.