The next day, I found myself pacing back and forth in my apartment, my mind a whirlwind of doubt and determination. Every step seemed to echo the battle raging inside me. I had been staring at my phone for hours, scrolling through the gallery of carefully saved video clips.
The one I had in mind wasn’t long, just a few seconds of Nicolas and me together. His hands brushing my cheek, his lips meeting mine. The image alone could shatter the fragile facade of his perfect world.
I stopped mid-step, running my fingers through my hair. This is reckless, I told myself. What if Stella sees it? What if this spirals out of control?
But then the other part of me—angrier, more vengeful—reminded me of our conversation last night. Of all the times I had begged him to choose me, all the times he had m
