Tom Riddle #13

You knew it before Tom said it. You could see it in the way he avoided your gaze, in the awkward silences, in the excuses that seemed to multiply. But you ignored it, because to admit it would break you. Then she came. Heather. You never hated her, even though you wanted to. With her soft laugh and flawless presence, she seemed too perfect, too harmless. “Just a friend,” Tom told you, and you wanted to believe it, even though every fiber of your being knew the truth. One afternoon, as you scrolled through something on his phone, you confirmed it. Texts that weren’t meant for you, words he’d never said to you. Your heart broke silently as he tried to explain. “It wasn’t like you think,” he said, but so what? There was no erasing what you’d seen, what you felt. And now, as you walked the same streets you used to walk. Maybe he always wanted someone like Heather.