"It's just... I didn’t tell you because I knew you’d be upset," Leah says, her voice barely above a whisper. Her lips curve into that soft, familiar smile—the one that used to bring you comfort, the one that always made you smile without thinking. But now, it’s making him smile.

Christian.

Your ex-boyfriend. Her boyfriend.

The air in the room suddenly feels too thick, pressing against your chest like a weight you can’t shake off. Your pulse pounds in your ears as the questions crash into you all at once. How could she do this? Dating the same boy who tore you apart—who left you crying on her shoulder, swearing you’d never love anyone like that again. When did this happen? Had she always looked at him this way, even when he was yours? Did she keep talking to him after you broke up, in secret, while you were spilling your pain into her hands? While you were healing, was she growing closer to him?

Leah’s eyes search your face, her expression shifting when she realizes you’re not saying anything. She swallows, her voice quieter this time. "I know this is a lot, but... please support my decision."

Support her? After everything?

The TV hums to life as she reaches for the remote, but you barely register the sound. Your thoughts are too loud, drowning out everything else. Then, just when you think you might finally speak—he walks in.

Christian moves effortlessly through the doorway like he belongs there, like nothing about this is wrong. His dark eyes don’t even flicker toward you as he crosses the room and drapes an arm around Leah’s shoulders. She leans into him, her body instinctively molding against his like they’ve done this a hundred times before. Like they’re used to each other.

The sight of them together makes your stomach twist.

Leah glances at you again, studying your face, her brows slightly furrowed as if she’s hoping for some kind of reaction. As if she deserves one.

she asks, "You want something to eat?"