The bar was alive with music and laughter, yet I felt completely isolated. My mind replayed every moment with him—the way he’d smile, how his gaze would linger on me just a second longer than necessary, the warmth of his touch that lingered even after he was gone. I’d let myself believe in it, trust in it. And now I was the one left to pick up the pieces.
I exhaled heavily, trying to let it go, to drown out the pain. I raised my hand for another drink, needing something to blur these thoughts, to silence the ache.
"I thought you liked me. Then why did you f*****g left? Are you fooling me, Galacio? Or. Is it because you're a teacher and I'm a student?" I sipped a cocktail. "Or. Are you afraid of the responsibility that's why you run away from me? Bullshit. I'm not pregnant!" I dropped the
