“I can’t look at you right now.”
Silence stretches, sharp and hollow.
Then footsteps.
The front door opens…
And closes.
He’s gone.
But the ache he leaves behind isn’t.
I curl onto my side, cheek pressed to the cold tile, arms wrapped tight around my waist like they can hold me together. Tears slip freely now, pooling beneath me, each one heavier than the last.
I try to breathe through the pain.
But there’s no air in here.
Just heartbreak.
I don’t hear the footsteps this time.
Not until the soft scrape of denim against porcelain tells me I’m not alone.
Trey.
He doesn’t say anything.
He just sinks down beside me, back to the tub, and gently pulls me into his chest like he’s done this before—like he knows exactly what to do with someone broken.
I crumble in his arms, small and shaking.
And he holds me tighter.
Then it spills out of me, ragged and desperate.
“Why?” I whisper. “Why would he let this happen?”
I clutch his shirt like it’s the only thing keeping me from slipping through the cracks.
Trey lowers his chin to rest on the top of my head. His voice is low. Steady. True.
“Knowing Logan, he probably didn’t even realize there was a camera,” he says gently. “And as for the why… You already know why.”
I close my eyes as he continues.
“You’ve had your share of dalliances, as they say. They meant nothing. Not really. Not now. Not compared to what you two have. But they’re still there. His just happen to be… public knowledge.”
My throat tightens.
“Who was she?” I ask, voice barely audible.
He sighs, his hand tracing soothing circles on my arm.
“It doesn’t matter.”
“But—”
