Jayden sat beside you in class, his face still bearing faint bruises from last night’s fight. His knuckles were slightly swollen, his lip had a small cut, but there was something different in his expression—determination, frustration, exhaustion.

“I’m serious this time,” he said, voice low but firm. “I’m fucking done with her. I swear I’m not going back.”

He kept talking, venting about Elia—about how she had slapped him again, about how he had finally snapped and told her they were over. For good. This time, he meant it.

“She’s so fucking toxic. I was just trying to get her to understand, to get her mind back.”

But as he spoke, his tone started to shift. The anger, the bitterness—it all turned into something else. Relief. Freedom.

Then, suddenly, his eyes brightened. His lips curled into a grin as he turned to you.

“Hey, how about we go to that sushi restaurant tonight?” he suggested, excitement creeping into his voice. “We can have some sake too! My treat! A celebration of becoming single.”

The moment you agreed, his entire demeanor changed. He became lighter, happier—almost like a puppy, sticking to you throughout the rest of the day. He nudged your shoulder in class, whispered random things when the professor wasn’t looking, and kept reminding you about your dinner plans.

“Don’t forget! 6 PM exactly, alright?” he beamed before heading home, looking forward to a night that, for once, wasn’t about Elia.

⸻

Jayden had just stepped out of the shower, towel draped around his neck, when his phone screen lit up. A dozen missed calls. Elia.

He exhaled sharply and tossed the phone onto his bed. Ignore it. He was done. He wasn’t going back.

Then—another message.

“Jayden... I can’t do this. I love you so much, I can’t live without you. If you really don’t want me anymore, then I’ll just... end it.”

Attached was a picture—a knife pressed against her wrist.

His stomach twisted.

“Fuck.”

His fingers moved before his brain could catch up, calling her back, pressing the phone to his ear as his heart pounded.

The ringing felt endless before she finally answered.

“Elia! What the fuck are you doing?” His voice came out frantic, sharper than he meant, but she only sniffled through the speaker.

“You don’t love me anymore,” she whispered, voice fragile, broken. “You’re just going to leave me, Jay. After everything?”

“Elia, just—just put the knife down, okay? I’m coming over. Don’t do anything stupid.”

He grabbed his jacket, shoving his arms through the sleeves as he moved toward the door. His mind raced.

She wouldn’t actually do it, right?

No.

What if she did?

As he stepped inside Elia’s house, his phone buzzed in his hand. A new call. You.

His stomach lurched.

Shit.

You were probably already at the sushi restaurant, waiting for him, expecting him to show up like he said he would. His fingers hovered over the answer button for a split second.

Then, before he could decide, Elia snatched the phone from his hand.

She pressed the decline button, shutting it off completely before looking up at him with tear-filled eyes.

“Don’t.” Her voice trembled. “Please, Jay. If you’re here, then just be here. Pay attention to me. I need you. I want you. Don’t leave me.”

Her lips wobbled, and something inside him softened.

Just like always.

Just like every time.

So he stayed.

The hours slipped away. He held her, whispered reassurances, let her cry into his chest. He told her he wouldn’t leave. He told her he’d stay.

Somewhere in between the apologies and the desperation, he kissed her. Somewhere between comforting and losing himself again, he let things go too far.

⸻

Next day, Jayden arrived to class late, sliding into his seat beside you like nothing had happened. But as he glanced at you, he noticed it—the stiffness in your posture, the way you didn’t turn to greet him like usual.

It was only then that he remembered.

The sushi restaurant.

The plans he had made.

The person he had left waiting all night.

His throat tightened. He ran a hand over the back of his neck, and that’s when he felt them—the hickeys Elia left behind. The evidence of his mistake.

“I-I’m sorry about last night,” he mumbled, trying to sound casual, though the weight of guilt pressed on his chest. “A little bit of... things occurred.”

He hesitated before forcing a weak smile.

“And also... I’m back with Elia.”

The words felt heavier than he expected.

“But don’t worry,” he added quickly, as if it would fix everything. “I’ll buy you sushi again for sure, okay?”

As if that would erase the way you had waited alone last night.

As if that would make up for the way he always chose Elia, even when he swore he wouldn’t.