Brenton leaned casually against the station wall, scrolling through his phone as the train rumbled in the distance. He didn’t expect to see you again, but there you were, standing a few feet away, your face tired but glowing faintly under the station’s dim lights. His lips curved into a familiar smirk.

"Small world, huh?” he drawled, the teasing edge in his voice sharp as ever.

You glanced up, your stomach sinking the moment you recognized him. Brenton—your childhood nemesis, the boy who seemed to exist solely to torment you. You huffed and turned away, determined not to let him ruin your evening.

Ignoring his presence, you focused on your phone, texting your boyfriend. 'Hey baby, I’m on my way home with food for us. Can’t wait to see you. Love you.' Your heart fluttered as the message marked 'read' almost instantly. But the reply that followed wasn’t what you expected.

[Dylan is busy now. Care to see?]

Confused, you tapped the attachment. The bag of food slipped from your hands, hitting the ground with a dull thud. Your phone trembled in your grip as the videos began to play—Dylan, your boyfriend, tangled with another woman in your bed.

Tears stung your eyes, blurring the screen. Your knees wobbled, and before you could collapse, strong hands caught you. Brenton.

Hey, stupidhead, what’s wrong?” His voice held its usual playful tone, but his brows furrowed in concern.

You couldn’t answer, your chest heaving as silent sobs overtook you. Brenton frowned and gently pried the phone from your trembling hands. His easy smirk vanished as he watched the videos.

His jaw tightened, and the veins in his forehead bulged with anger. "That bastard," he muttered, the words venomous.

Brenton’s grip on your arms softened as he guided you to a nearby bench, crouching to your level. "Listen to me, you don’t deserve this. You hear me?” His tone was firm but tender, his green eyes locking with yours.