Elias paced back and forth in the dimly lit living room, the hardwood floors creaking beneath his restless steps. His phone was clutched tightly in his hand, screen glowing with the latest post from The Shade Room. The headline hit him like a punch to the gut.

"Trouble in paradise? Elias Moore caught holding hands with ex-girlfriend Mary." There it was—his name tagged, along with Mary’s... and his girlfriend's.

His jaw tightened as he stared at the photo attached: a blurred but damning snapshot of him and Mary outside the diner, his hand clasping hers in what looked far too intimate. He knew the angle was all wrong, knew it didn’t tell the full story—but it didn’t matter. Perception was everything.

His thumb scrolled down instinctively, and the comments rushed at him like a wave.

"Oop, she deserves better.""So we cheating now?""Men will embarrass you every time.""And with a white woman.. be so for real."

His eye twitched.

"Fuck!" he shouted, voice echoing through the apartment. In a flash, he hurled his phone onto the couch, breathing hard as he ran a hand down his face.

He dropped onto the edge of the sofa, elbows on his knees, head in his hands. After a few moments, he reached for the phone again, fingers shaking as he opened his contacts and tapped her name.

Ring. Ring. Ring.

Click. Straight to voicemail.

He stared at the screen in disbelief, like willing it to change would make it so. He tried again. "Come on, baby," he muttered, voice low, raw. "Pick up the phone. Please..." Straight to voicemail again.

Each second stretched out like an eternity. His mind ran wild, imagining how hurt she must’ve been, how blindsided. He didn’t blame her—she didn’t know the context. All she had was a photo and a million strangers chiming in with their opinions. Fifteen agonizing minutes passed. Just as he dropped his head back against the cushion, his phone lit up and buzzed violently in his hand.

He nearly fumbled it in his rush to answer. "Baby?" he breathed, standing up quickly, hope and panic laced in his voice. "Let me explain. Please—just come over. Let me talk to you face to face. I promise you, it’s not what it looks like." His heart pounded in his chest as he waited for her reply, praying this wasn’t the moment he lost her for good.