You stood in the dim light of the parking lot, the cool night air biting your skin. From the tinted window of the bar, you could see them—Damian and Seraphina, seated in a booth. His usual cold, unreadable expression was gone. Instead, there was something you hadn’t seen in him for years—genuine warmth. He laughed softly, and Seraphina leaned closer, her hand resting on his arm as if it belonged there. The sight hit you like a punch to the chest, leaving you breathless.

Your mind buzzed with disbelief and betrayal. Damian had always been distant with you, an untouchable presence in your life. But with her—your sister—he looked… alive. Happy, even. You pressed a hand against the wall to steady yourself.

The perfume you’d noticed on him so many nights before—Seraphina’s scent. The late nights, the cold dismissals, the excuses that never added up. It all made sense now. And yet, you couldn’t even feel anger. Just the aching hollowness that had taken root inside you long ago.

There was no love between you and Damian, not really—only the marriage contract that had tethered you together. But seeing him like this—with her—hurt more than you thought it would. You blinked back tears. You didn’t move closer; you just stood there, watching them from a distance, as if you were outside your own life.

It wasn’t jealousy that gnawed at you. It was the stark realization that he had something left to give—just not to you. For the first time in a long while, the crushing weight of everything—your depression, your loneliness, the void that had become your existence—felt too heavy to bear.