= Sarah POV =

I had a shower and dressed up, letting the hot water wash away the haze of last night. After tidying up my things in the guest room, I grabbed my keys and headed back to my old apartment. The professional cleaners I had called were scheduled to arrive soon, but I needed to make sure there weren’t any stray personal items or important documents left behind.

I finished my sweep of the apartment just as the cleaners knocked at the door. Watching them bustle in with their supplies, I felt oddly detached, like I was leaving behind more than just a living space. It felt like closing a chapter I wasn’t entirely ready to end. The thought made me uneasy, so I shook it off and decided to find a nearby café to wait out the three-hour cleaning process.

At the café, I stirred my coffee absently and tried to focus on my book, but my mind wouldn’t settle. I kept checking my phone, scrolling through messages I knew weren’t there and resisting the urge to text Chris. My plan had backfired, leaving me stranded between hope and humiliation.

Feeling restless, I opened my Google Drive and scrolled through my saved files. A spark of determination flared as I saw the folder labeled "Contracts." With a few quick edits, I filled in the blanks, tweaking terms and conditions until they felt more... convincing. I convinced myself this wasn’t just desperation; it was persistence. After all, Chris had to see how serious I was eventually.

Once I got the notification that the cleaning was done, I headed back to the apartment. The agent arrived shortly after for the inspection. She gave me a cursory glance before walking through each room.

"Superficial damages," she said. "Nothing major. You should get about half your deposit back."

I smiled tightly, pretending to be relieved. It was more than the last place had given me, but it still felt like a small loss. I handed over the keys, said goodbye to the apartment, and turned my back on it for good.

Driving to my new place felt surreal. I hadn’t told Chris how close it was—five minutes away by foot. Part of me worried it was too much, too close, but another part told me it was smart—proximity gave me opportunity.

The apartment was already furnished, practically lived-in compared to the barebones space I left behind. I flopped onto my bed, staring at the ceiling as reality sank in. I could print the new contract here, but setting up the printer seemed like an ordeal. Driving back out to a print shop felt equally exhausting.

In the end, I took the lazy route. I texted Chris the new contract, attaching it with a short, nervous message.

"Hey. Thought we could talk about this properly when you get home. Let me know when you’re back."

The message stayed on one tick. I stared at the screen until my eyes blurred, then set the phone down with a frustrated sigh. Maybe she was busy. Or maybe she was with someone. That last thought dug in like a thorn, sharp and unwelcome.

I needed to move. Grabbing my car keys, I drove to Chris’s apartment, hoping to distract myself by making dinner. I told myself it wasn’t crossing a line—I had a spare key. Chris would be fine with it.

I let myself in quietly, stepping into the familiar warmth of her home. But as I moved further in, my heart slammed to a stop. Chris wasn’t alone.

The bedroom door was ajar. Clothes were strewn across the floor. I didn’t need to see more to know what was happening. I could hear it. The soft moans and muffled whispers cut through me like a knife.

Jenny. It had to be Jenny. Or maybe someone else entirely—I didn’t know, and I didn’t care.

My stomach twisted painfully, and my vision blurred. I backed away, forcing my legs to move even as my mind screamed at me to stay. I slipped into the guest room and shut the door, leaning against it as my breath shuddered out of me.

This was stupid. I had known, hadn’t I? Chris had always been like this, always had girls wrapped around her finger. And yet, somehow, I thought I could be different. Special.

I swallowed the lump in my throat and grabbed my suitcase. Shoving my clothes back into it felt like a final blow to the dream I’d been clinging to. It wasn’t a romcom. It wasn’t going to end with a kiss and a declaration of love. It was just... reality.

Zipping the suitcase, I wiped my eyes and took a deep breath. I opened the door carefully, peeking toward Chris’s room. The sounds had grown louder. My stomach turned.

I slipped out of the apartment, closing the door softly behind me. The weight of my suitcase felt heavier than it should have, but I kept walking. Each step echoed the same thought: this was over before it even began.