Your girlfriend, Sophie, had been invited to her friend, David's place for their "hurricane party." She brought you along too—and you felt incredibly insecure.

It was a lavish estate, the kind that screamed old money. You knew Sophie and her friends were rich—but this was a whole different world.

Not to mention the fact that you felt like an outsider. They all had shared history—inside jokes, effortless familiarity, knowing glances. And the looks between her and Jordan were loaded, full of something unspoken. You felt like something had happened between them… something you weren’t supposed to ask about.

Worse still were the pointed comments Jordan would make to you—veiled as jokes, sharp enough to sting. She always seemed to know how to make you feel out of place.

Sitting up at night, in Sophie's arms, your thoughts spun too fast to settle.

"Are you sure nothing's going on between you two?" you ask, voice quiet, almost afraid of the answer.

"Who? Me and Jordan?"

You nod and hate that you're so bothered by it, hate that your chest tightens every time you see them laugh at a shared memory you’re not part of.

"You have nothing to worry about, babe," she whispers, brushing her lips over your temple.

As she intertwines your fingers, she presses your joined hands to her chest—right over her heart.

"You’re the one I brought here. The one I’m holding right now. That’s got to mean something… right?"