Lying there in the dark, my vision blurred with tears, I clutched the blanket tightly to my chest. Those words weren't for me. They never had been.
Before I knew it, my pillow was soaked with tears and my entire head throbbed with a hollow, numbing ache. The faint light of the moon filtered through the curtains, illuminating the stillness of my side of the room. Yet outside the door, the muffled sounds of passion broke the silence—soft laughter, whispered words and the wet sounds of lingering kisses.
Separated by just a wall, it felt as though two entirely different worlds had taken shape. In one, intimacy bloomed. In the other, I lay alone, cradling my shattered heart.
Sleep was a distant memory. My trembling hands reached for my phone, the device feeling cold and unfamiliar. I scrolled through my long-neglected social media feed, hoping for a distraction.
I had few friends listed—mostly employees from Tristan's company, people I had added out of obligation rather than genuine connection. Among them, Anya stood out as the most active. Her posts dominated my feed, each update a carefully curated dagger aimed at my pride.