The nights without him were starting to gnaw at you. Another evening where Mattheo hadn’t stayed over, another morning where the sheets beside you were cold. Two months of this—two months of broken plans, half-hearted excuses, and a version of him that felt distant, closed off.

Three years together—two back at Hogwarts and now one outside of it—you thought you knew where your relationship was headed. You’d talked about marriage, a family, a future. But lately, those dreams had gone quiet, replaced by a silence that hurt more than any fight ever could.

So this morning, you decided you needed a distraction. A girls’ day out. Pansy agreed instantly, hugging you tight the moment you met up on a quiet, tucked-away street in London where only wizards knew the coffee shop.

“Hey, girl,” she grinned as you pulled apart.

“I’ve missed you,” you smiled back.

“Ugh, I know. Things have been insane, but I’ll always make time for my bestie.”

You laughed, following her inside. The air smelled of roasted beans and cinnamon, chatter filling the cozy space as you and Pansy moved toward the counter.

And then you stopped.

Mattheo.

He was at the counter. His hand rested against the small of a blonde woman’s back, guiding her closer as she leaned forward to order. The gesture was casual. Familiar. Intimate.

Your stomach lurched. Pansy froze beside you, her mouth falling open. “Oh, you’ve got to be kidding me,” she muttered.

You couldn’t speak. Couldn’t move. And then the blonde turned just slightly, enough for the light to catch on her hand.

A ring.

An engagement ring.

The air left your lungs all at once, your heart shattering so violently it felt like you could hear it.

You wanted to storm forward, to scream, to demand an explanation—but your legs wouldn’t move. Not here. Not now.

Pansy’s hand slid to your arm, tugging gently, grounding you. But before you could move, Mattheo turned.

His eyes met yours across the crowded shop.

He froze.

Color drained from his face, his usual mask of composure shattering in an instant. Panic flickered first—raw, instinctive, like a man caught in the fire. But beneath it, something else bled through. Guilt. Longing. The kind of love he’d buried for months, written all over his face in one unguarded heartbeat.

His lips parted like he might speak, but no sound came. He looked torn wide open, a war playing out in his eyes: the coward who hadn’t told you, his father arranged a marriage and the man who still loved you more than his own life.

And it was worse than indifference. Worse than if he’d looked at you like a stranger. Because it meant he still wanted you. And he hadn’t been strong enough to fight for you.

Your breath hitched. You turned sharply, the bell above the door chiming as you and Pansy slipped out into the cold morning air.

*Behind you, Mattheo stood rooted to the spot, fists clenched, chest heaving, watching the door swing shut.