The next day at school, a heavy cloud of sadness hung over me as I trudged through the halls. Ephraim spotted me immediately, his eyes narrowing in concern.

“Mel, you look like you’re about to cry again,” he said, his voice soft but teasing.

I didn’t answer him, my lips pursed and my eyes fixed on the floor as I continued sulking.

“Come on, tell me what happened,” Ephraim prodded gently, his voice laced with worry.

“He broke up with me,” I muttered, barely above a whisper.

“But he hasn’t even asked you to be his girlfriend.”

I scoffed, rolling my eyes.

Ephraim let out a long sigh, shaking his head. “It’s his loss, and he knows that.”

“No, it’s not like that,” I replied, my voice trembling as I told him the whole story—how it happened, the words he said, how everything had crumbled in the blink of an eye.

Ephraim looked at me with a mixture of disbelief and exasperation. “Haayy. You know what? It’s still his loss.”

I scoffed, rolling my eyes. “Yeah, right. I lost a future hardworking man for a husband.”

Ephraim blinked, his eyebrows shooting up. “What?”

“What?” I echoed, meeting his gaze.

“How would you know he would be your future husband?” Ephraim laughed. “For all we know, Knox might be your future husband.”

“Hey! What’s Knox got to do with this?” I shot back at the random conclusion he made, my voice rising in indignation.

“I dunno,” Ephraim shrugged, grinning. “I just know a future husband would choose you. He wouldn’t make you chase him, and he wouldn’t let you worry about another woman.”

I let out a long sigh, my shoulders slumping. The silence between us lingered, thick and heavy.

Then, as if an idea had struck me, my eyes brightened. “Wait, I have an idea!” I blurted out. “I’ll go talk to him again and tell him I can be friends with Stephanie so I can get closer to him again. That way, he’ll realize he misses me…”

I rambled on, already plotting my course of action.

Ephraim’s eyes widened, and his mouth fell open in shock. “You will what??!!”

Ignoring him, I sprinted down the hallway, my heart pounding with a mix of hope and desperation. I ran straight to Matt’s classroom and peeked through the window.

Inside, Matt was fast asleep at his desk, his head resting on his arms. Stephanie, with a playful smile, was running her fingers through his hair, her laughter light and carefree.

Neither of them noticed me standing there.

My heart sank, and I staggered back, the weight of my foolish plan crashing down on me. I stood frozen, stunned and hurt, before turning away. The tears I’d been holding back threatened to spill as I made my way back to Ephraim, my resolve crumbling into sadness once again.

“Wait, don’t tell him–”

Ephraim chased after me, and saw the scene too.

“Ohh.”

“I feel like I’m totally lost.”

“Come on, let’s go to Sevun/11 before your shifts starts at the cafe. Oreo ice cream would make you feel better.”

Meanwhile, on their way to the café, Matt and Stephanie passed by Sevun/11.

Matt’s steps slowed. Through the glass, he saw Melanie with Ephraim—laughing.

His expression remained unreadable, caught between shock and something else, something nameless. For a moment, he just stood there, staring.

Stephanie noticed. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing,” he muttered.

Then, without another glance, he turned back to the road and kept walking.

________________

It was nearly the end of another long shift at the coffee shop. The hum of the espresso machine and the low murmur of chatter filled the air, creating a comfortable buzz. Melanie leaned against the counter, glancing out the window at the fading daylight. "Okay, let’s do this," she muttered, mentally gearing herself up for the final push.

She turned to Matt, who was wiping down the counter beside her. "Hey, Matt. Can we walk home together today? If that’s okay, that is," she asked, her voice quiet but hopeful.

Matt looked up from his task, a small smile spreading across his face. "Sure."

The steady stream of customers continued, though Melanie’s mind was elsewhere, anticipating the time they'd finally have together, just like the old days. The familiar rhythm of the café seemed to fade into the background as she focused on the simple request she'd made.

Twenty minutes passed.

Then, a shout sliced through the air.

"I told you that it's decaf!!!" The customer's voice was sharp and full of fury, directed at Stephanie, who was trembling behind the counter.

The next thing Melanie saw took her by surprise. In one swift motion, the customer poured their coffee—hot and scalding—over Stephanie's uniform, sending the liquid splashing onto the floor.

Stephanie’s face twisted in shock and pain, and she burst into tears, the weight of the incident too much for her to bear.

One of the other coworkers quickly rushed to Stephanie's side, trying to comfort her, but it was clear the damage was done.

Melanie's pulse quickened. She wasn’t about to stand by and watch this happen. Her protective instincts flared.

"What happened?!" she demanded, rushing to Stephanie's side.

Her voice was tight with anger, her body rigid with the need to fix things. She hated seeing people—especially her coworkers—treated unfairly.

The manager was nowhere to be found, leaving the staff to handle the situation on their own.

"Get out." Melanie’s voice rang out with authority, sharp and unwavering.

The customer glared at her, incredulous. "How dare you say that to me?!"

“Get out, before I report you to the police for abuse," Melanie shot back, standing her ground.

The customer sneered. "Ugh!! I will never come back to this place again. In fact, I’m going to leave a scathing review on your website! What’s your name?"

Melanie didn’t flinch. She smiled, a slow, calm smile. "Sure, go ahead. My name’s Melanie."

The customer’s face contorted with rage, but Melanie’s composure only seemed to make the situation worse in their eyes. The furious energy in the air was palpable, but Melanie refused to back down.

Matt, who had been watching from the sidelines, was visibly upset, his fists clenched. But then, as the tension settled, his expression softened, and he looked at Melanie with a new warmth.

"Thank you for standing up for Stephanie," he said, his voice quiet but full of gratitude.

Melanie felt a rush of pride, her chest swelling at the praise. She hadn’t done it for recognition, but hearing Matt's words made everything feel worth it. There was something satisfying in knowing that, in that moment, she had done the right thing. And maybe, just maybe, that small victory would be enough to make the day feel just a little bit brighter.

After work, I was practically floating as I packed up my things, eager to finally head home with Matt after so long.

“Matt—”

The name barely left my lips before my steps faltered. In the far corner of the break room, Stephanie was crying. Matt sat beside her, his hand gently resting on her head before pulling her into a hug.

“Today was really horrible. How could he do that?” Stephanie sobbed.

“It’s okay. Good thing Livi stood up for you.”

“Livi?”

“I mean… Melanie.”

“Yeah… she’s really strong. Unlike me. Like, I’m just poor at everything.”

“No, don’t say that.”

Her shoulders trembled, tears still falling.

“You are capable of making your own money. You’re independent, intelligent, and beautiful. You’re the strongest woman I know.”

Stephanie’s sobs faded. She lifted her head, her gaze locking onto Matt’s.

A flicker of something passed between them. Something dangerous.

She was about to take something that was mine.

Only mine.

I thought it was only mine.

Matt leaned in—slowly. His hand, the same one that used to brush my hair behind my ear, the same one that had held mine, now cupped her cheek. His eyes, the ones that once looked at me like I was the only person in the world, were now focused on her—soft, tender, filled with something that used to be mine.

And then, his lips met hers.

It wasn’t hesitation. It wasn’t a mistake. It was deliberate. 

A sharp, invisible blade drove itself into my chest, twisting, tearing, shattering something deep inside me. My breath caught, my fingers trembled, my body locked in place as if moving would break me into a thousand pieces.

He kissed her.

The reality of it crashed over me in waves—burning, suffocating. I was supposed to be the one he held like that. I was supposed to be the one he whispered those words to. 

The strongest woman he knows?

We were supposed to be going home together, laughing, talking.

Instead, I stood there, watching as the person I loved—the person I trusted—gave away a piece of himself that were meant to be mine.

And in that moment, I realized something far worse than heartbreak.

I was the only one who thought he was mine.