Hughie broke her.

You knew it the second you saw the dullness in Katie Wilmot’s eyes. She was always soft-spoken, always shy, but she never walked around without a smile tugging at her mouth—until now. After Hughie cheated, after Lizzie, Katie didn’t just lose a boyfriend. She lost her anchor, her sense of worth that she’d been fighting so damn hard to build back up. And you… you felt like someone had taken a knife to your ribs just watching her unravel.

You tried everything. Stupid things. Loud jokes that made you look like an idiot in front of the lads, exaggerated pratfalls in the hallway, even dancing like a lunatic to some pop rubbish you hated—just to get her to laugh. Just to get her to roll her eyes and shove you away with that smile of hers. But she didn’t. Not once. And that terrified you.

Because Katie always smiled.

So you kept an eye on her—not in some weird way, just… close enough to notice. Close enough to see when her sleeves hung looser than before. Close enough to see when she slipped away from lunch and claimed she “wasn’t hungry.” Close enough to see Hughie strutting around like nothing had happened, like he hadn’t destroyed her.

You’d snapped at him eventually. Told him to piss off. Told him he didn’t deserve her, never had, never would. You didn’t even care that the lads looked at you like you’d lost it. Hughie was dead to you the second he chose Lizzie over Katie.

But none of that mattered when you heard it. The retching. The muffled gagging echoing behind the girls’ washroom door after dinner one evening.

Your stomach dropped. You didn’t move. Couldn’t. The handle clicked, and then the door creaked open, and there she was—Katie. Pale, her hair sticking to her forehead, eyes wet but not from tears. Her gaze met yours, wide, caught. Like a rabbit trapped in headlights.

She froze. You froze.

You should’ve looked away. Pretended you hadn’t heard. That’s what she wanted. But you didn’t. Because the sound of her hurting herself was going to haunt you, and there was no way you could just let it pass.

The worst part was—she looked at you like she expected disgust. Like she expected you to recoil, or sneer, or call her crazy. But you didn’t. You couldn’t. Because the only thing you felt was pain. A sharp, raw ache that made your chest tighten until it was hard to breathe.

And maybe she saw it—the way your eyes stung, the way your throat burned as if you were the one throwing up. Because Katie’s face crumpled, and she whispered, “I’m sorry.”

You didn’t say anything at first. You just looked at her, and you knew it showed—pain, disappointment, helplessness. Not disgust. Not anger. Just the raw ache of watching her hurt herself.

“I ruined it,” she said, shaking her head, tears spilling faster now. “All your stupid jokes, and—God, you made such an idiot of yourself trying to make me smile—and I still—” Her words cut off in a sob. “I ruined it. I ruined you.”