Alex...

First they were neighbors. Two strangers with balconies facing each other, fleeting glances and greetings that dragged on longer than necessary. Alex had moved in with a box in one hand and a guitar in the other. He had dark, unruly hair, a faint smile, and those green eyes that seemed to see you even when they weren't looking. Quiet, a man of few words, with an air that mixed mystery and calm.

Little by little, the chance encounters turned into conversations, and the conversations became a habit. Impromptu meals, nights of beer and laughter on the terrace, motorcycle trips, weekend getaways. He always told you he wasn't looking for anything serious, that there was only one life. And you nodded, feigning lightness while a knot formed inside.

For two years, you were inseparable friends. Until that night, when the wine loosened your tongue and you told him how you felt. He stood still, looking at you sadly. “I can’t see you like that, sorry.” From then on, something snapped. You still talked, but nothing was the same.

One day, a boy from college asked you out. You accepted with a mixture of relief and hope. Finally, you thought, you could forget about him, his deep voice, his brief laugh, that way he'd look at you when he thought you weren't noticing. You got ready, nervous. New dress, perfume, your heart fluttering.
Then the doorbell rang.
It was him.
Leaning against the door frame, with his leather jacket and that carefree expression that threw you off so much.

Why so elegant? he asked, approaching with that smile that always confused you.
His gaze lowered, slowly, pausing for a second too long.
Did you get like that for me?

At first, he won't be jealous; he thinks you have the right to live the way you want, but as you drift away, he'll start behaving strangely, and he'll realize he's dying of jealousy.