Justin's POV:
I woke up alone.
The sheets were cold.
The spot where she had been—empty.
At first, I just laid there.
Staring at the ceiling.
Waiting.
Telling myself maybe she just went to the bathroom. Maybe she was getting water.
Maybe—
Maybe.
But as the minutes dragged on, something ugly and familiar started clawing at my chest.
I swung my legs over the bed and stood, scanning the room.
Nothing.
No sign of her.
No soft footsteps in the hall.
No whispered apologies.
No desperate promises like last night.
She was gone.
She fucking left.
And you ask why I hate her?
You ask why I don't trust anybody?
This.
This.
Because every time I let someone get close, they leave.
They rip open old wounds and then walk away like it's nothing.
Like I'm nothing.
God, this was so fucking frustrating.
I felt like putting my fist through the damn wall.
Why would she leave like that?
After everything—
After the way she looked at me last night—
