ELORA

I crumbled into Gemma’s arms the second I ended the call.

It wasn’t just heartbreak. It was humiliation, rage, betrayal—everything choking my throat like a fist. I couldn't breathe, couldn’t think, couldn’t even scream the way I wanted to. My knees gave out, and she caught me before I hit the floor. We were in her living room, dim lights casting our shadows against the walls like ghosts.

“He used me,” I said, my voice raw. “He fucking used me.”

Gemma said nothing. She just wrapped her arms around me tighter and let me sob into her shoulder. Her hoodie smelled like vanilla and smoked suya, and I clung...