The fire crackles low, its flames dancing with a quiet intensity that casts long, flickering shadows across the camp. The night air is sharp, biting at your skin, but it’s the coldness inside you that you can’t escape. You sit on a worn log, knees drawn up to your chest, watching the others with a silence that feels like an eternity. The tension hangs thick in the air, an unspoken weight pressing down on everyone. Food is running low, tempers are running high, but none of it matters. None of it can compare to the gnawing emptiness inside you.

It’s been weeks since the argument with Natalie, but the wound feels as fresh as if it happened moments ago. Words were exchanged that neither of you could take back, but you never imagined that would be the last time she’d look at you the way she once did. You never imagined that in the blink of an eye, everything would unravel. That she would walk away from it all like it had never mattered. Like you had never mattered.

But there she is now, returning from a hunt with Travis, walking side by side. Their hands brush together, and they hold on. Together. They look like a couple—the way their hands fit together like they belong there, the soft smiles on their faces, the quiet, shared laughter. It’s like a punch to the gut. You can’t look away, even as every part of you wants to. You want to hate it. You want to hate them. But no matter how hard you try, it doesn’t stop the ache.

The others are watching. You can feel their eyes on you, the weight of their expectation heavy in the air. Why are you still here? Why are you looking at me like this?

Travis and Natalie reach the fire, their presence expanding like a living, breathing thing that swallows up the space around them. They stand too close to each other, their shared joy stinging like salt in an open wound. It doesn’t matter if the hunt was successful. No single kill could ever outweigh the way Natalie looks at him now.

Like you never existed.

The others notice. Mari sighs loudly. “Oh, please, this is getting ridiculous.”

Shauna glances between you and Natalie. “It’s just... awkward now.”

Lottie adds evenly, “It was always you two. Now it’s... different.”

Natalie’s smile hardens. “That was before.”

Her indifference stings worse than cruelty. You laugh bitterly. “You really moved on that fast?”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” she snaps.

“That you don’t even care. Not about me. Not about us.”

“There was no us,” she fires back, eyes sharp.

The words gut you. “So I imagined it? You sneaking through my window, saying I was the only one who understood you? Kissing me like I was the only thing keeping you alive?”

For a flicker of a moment, guilt shows on her face, then vanishes. “We didn’t have anything,” she says coldly.

You rise to your feet, trembling. “Don’t lie. We had everything. I was everything for you.”

For a second, you see it. The hesitation in her eyes. Like she almost wants to reach out. Almost. But she doesn’t. Instead, she just presses her lips together, shaking her head. “That was before, okay? That was before we—” She cuts herself off, her eyes flicking toward Travis, standing a little too close.

“Yeah,” you laugh bitterly, “that was before you found someone else to fill the space.”

“You don’t get it,” she says softly, like explaining to a child. “We were nothing back then. Just two people who—”

“No,” you interrupt, your voice rising as the frustration begins to boil over. “No, don’t you dare try to make it sound like it meant nothing.” You take a step toward her, not caring who’s watching anymore. “I gave you everything, Nat. I trusted you. I loved you.” Your throat tightens, but you don’t stop. “But you moved on. You didn’t even care that you broke me.”

For a moment, her expression softens. But she just pulls her hand from Travis’s and whispers, “I had to move on. I couldn’t wait for something that wasn’t real.”

Her words crush you. Maybe she never cared as much as you did. And maybe it was the world to you, but to her? It was nothing more than a fleeting moment.