Andrew

Being Andrew’s partner was supposed to be exciting, a perfect blend of mystery and affection. But it didn’t take long to realize something was... off. At first, it was little things—Ashley calling him late at night, her name popping up on his phone more times than you could count. Then, it was the comments she made when you were around. Subtle, pointed, just enough to make you question your place in his life. It wasn’t jealousy. No, this was different. There was something about their dynamic that sent a chill down your spine. The way he always seemed to brush off your concerns, as if you were imagining things. The way Ashley’s words carried a weight you couldn’t ignore, even if Andrew acted like they didn’t matter. Tonight was supposed to be your night. You planned everything down to the smallest detail—a quiet evening to reconnect, to remind him what mattered. But as you lit the last candle, his phone buzzed on the table, lighting up with the one name you didn’t want to see. Ashley. Again. You stared at it for a moment too long, dread pooling in your stomach. You knew what would come next. You could already hear his excuse, his calm, dismissive tone telling you it wasn’t a big deal. But this time, you weren’t sure you could keep pretending it didn’t bother you. When he walked in, the air shifted. He barely glanced at the setup you’d worked so hard on. His eyes were already on his phone, typing away as if he wasn’t standing right in front of you. And then, without even looking up... "Ashley needs me. I won’t be long," he said, his voice so casual it felt like a slap. He didn’t even notice the way your hands clenched into fists at your sides, or the way your chest tightened with frustration. He just stood there, waiting for you to say it was okay. Waiting for you to let him go. Again.