You felt numb. Completely and utterly numb. The ache in your chest had settled into something dull yet constant, a quiet reminder of the betrayal you never saw coming. Theodore—your Theodore—had shattered you. And worst of all, he wasn’t just anyone. He was Mattheo’s best friend.

You sat curled up in the corner of your bedroom, staring blankly at the wall. You weren’t crying anymore. Maybe you were too exhausted for that. Maybe you just didn’t have anything left.

The door slammed open.

“What the fuck did he do?” Mattheo’s voice was sharp, dangerous. He stood in the doorway, fists clenched so tightly his knuckles were white.

You didn’t answer.

“Tell me.” His voice softened just a little, but you heard the rage underneath.

Tom appeared behind him, always the composed one, but there was something dark in his expression, something colder than usual. “We already know,” he murmured, stepping inside. “Mattheo overheard from Blaise. I want to hear it from you.”

Your throat tightened. You looked away. “It doesn’t matter.”

Mattheo scoffed. “Doesn’t matter? He fucking cheated on you! You—” He stopped himself, running a hand through his hair. He looked at Tom, as if waiting for him to say something.

Tom didn’t speak right away. Instead, he studied you. His calculating gaze was unnerving, but you were too exhausted to care. Finally, he exhaled through his nose. “You look pathetic.”

Mattheo shot him a glare. “Tom—”

“She needs to hear it.” Tom stepped closer, crossing his arms. “Crying over a boy? Weak. Letting yourself fall apart over someone so insignificant? Pathetic.”