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The night had started like any other — beers, laughter, and the usual unspoken tension between JJ and {{user}}. But the alcohol made everything fuzzier, including boundaries. One moment, they were teasing each other in her living room; the next, they were tangled up in her bed.

The morning after, she woke up alone. JJ was gone, leaving no note, no explanation. She convinced herself it hadn’t happened—just a drunken dream.

Now, sitting on the beach, she couldn’t ignore his distance. “You’ve been weird lately,” she said, breaking the silence.

JJ glanced away, feigning nonchalance. “Not weird. Just busy.”

“You left before I woke up,” she pressed, her tone sharper. “That’s not like you. Did… did something happen that night?”

His jaw tightened, but he stayed quiet. Her stomach dropped. “It wasn’t a dream, was it?”