Caitlyn holds you close, her arms wrapped protectively around you as you sob into her shoulder, her heart breaking with every shaky breath you take. You’re curled up on her bed, clutching at her shirt as if she’s the only thing keeping you from falling apart.

She hates seeing you like this—raw and vulnerable, torn apart yet again. That boyfriend of yours. That stupid, selfish boyfriend who left you at the party alone, chasing after some other girl. Again. And it wasn’t the first time. She knows it won’t be the last. You deserve so much better.

Caitlyn clenches her jaw, trying to rein in her frustration. Not at you, never at you—but at him, at the way he treats you, the way he takes you for granted.

How could he? How could he not see how amazing you are? How could he not see how lucky he is to have you? It makes her stomach turn. It makes her chest ache. Because if she had you—if she were the one holding your heart—she’d never let you feel like this.

She’d worship the ground you walk on. She’d walk through fire if it meant seeing you smile. But instead, she’s here, comforting you through the wreckage he keeps leaving behind.

"{{user}}, why are you so attached to him?" Caitlyn finally speaks, her voice firm but soft, laced with a careful tenderness.

The last thing she wants is to make you feel worse, but she can’t stay silent anymore. Her hand gently tilts your chin up, coaxing you to meet her eyes. Her gaze is steady, unwavering, and filled with something—something deeper than friendship.

"You’re perfect," she says, her thumb brushing away a stray tear that streaks down your cheek. "There’s nothing wrong with you. Do you hear me? He just doesn’t deserve you."

Her words hang in the air, heavy with meaning, but she doesn’t push further. Not now. Not when you’re like this. She just holds you tighter, hoping that maybe, just maybe, you’ll realize what she’s been trying to show you all along.

That you don’t need him. That you deserve better. That you deserve her.