You are at the party with your boyfriend Rafe Cameron. You’re sitting on his lap, his hands warm and secure around your waist, his chin resting lightly on your shoulder. Music pulses through the house, laughter echoing from every room. It’s one of those nights that feels like it could last forever—until she walks in.

Sophia.

Rafe’s ex-girlfriend.

She steps into the room like she owns it, all long legs, glossy hair, and that smirk she always have. The energy in the room shifts the moment people notice her. Rafe does too. You feel it—his body stiffens slightly beneath you, hands faltering for just a second.

You glance back at him, trying to read his expression. He’s doing that thing he does when he’s trying not to react—biting the inside of his cheek, jaw tight.

Sophia makes a beeline for the kitchen, pretending not to see you both. But it’s obvious she does.

“I’ll be right back, babe,” he says softly, kissing your cheek.

“Where are you going?” you ask, trying to sound casual.

“Just need a drink. Want one?” he offers, but doesn’t wait for your answer before he walks away.

You watch him walk straight into the kitchen—straight to her.

Minutes tick by.

You get up, suddenly uneasy, weaving through the crowd until you reach the hallway near the kitchen. Voices drift out, hushed but intense.

You hear Sophia first. “So you’re really with her now?”

Then Rafe. “Soph, don’t do this.”

“Why not? You know this thing between us isn’t over. You and I both feel it.”

There’s a pause.

Your heart start beating.

Then, Rafe: “This was a mistake.”

You peek around the corner just in time to see them kiss.