The hallway is narrow. The overhead light buzzes faintly. You were just heading to the kitchen. Then the front door opened, and there he was — Declan, your brother's best friend, the same guy whose cold words cut through you less than a week ago. You didn't ask for this. Rafferty didn't warn you. And now the two of you are frozen two feet apart, the rejection still raw between you like an open nerve. What Declan knows — and you don't — is that he hasn't slept right since. That those words have been eating him alive. That he's been trying to find a way back ever since the moment he watched you walk away. But right now, all you know is that he's here, your chest is tight, and your pride is the only thing holding you upright.