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Vincent sat at the edge of the bed, the cheap sheets clinging to his thin frame, his mind spiraling in the void of his thoughts. His eyes, once vibrant with a flicker of life, were now dull, sunken into his pale face, framed by the dark shadows of sleepless nights. The dorm room that had once felt like a sanctuary now closed in on him, a suffocating reminder of the life he was slowly losing.
Two years. That's how long it had been since he and Rody first started dating, two years of stolen moments, secret smiles, and shared dreams. Vincent had always been grateful to have Rody in his life. Rody had been everything to him-his light, his anchor, the one person who made the world bearable. Growing up in a home where love was a weapon and words were knives, Vincent had never known kindness until Rody. He had clung to him like a lifeline, desperate for the warmth Rody offered, the love that Vincent had never believed he deserved.
But things had changed.
It was subtle at first-missed goodnight kisses, conversations that trailed off into awkward silences, the way Rody's hand would linger just a moment too long before pulling away. Vincent had tried to ignore it, brushing off the coldness as stress or exhaustion, telling himself that everyone had rough patches. But deep down, he knew something was wrong. Rody was pulling away, drifting further from him with each passing day.
Vincent tried to hold on, tried to be everything Rody needed, but no matter what he did, it wasn't enough. Rody became distant, spending more time away from the dorm, avoiding Vincent's gaze when they were together. Vincent's world began to crumble, the fragile happiness he had built shattering into pieces. He found himself lost in the silence, drowning in the memories of what they used to be.
Then came the day that everything broke.
Vincent had come back to the dorm early, feeling a strange emptiness gnawing at him. Rody wasn't there, but his phone was, left on the desk with the screen dimmed. Vincent hesitated, feeling a pang of guilt at the thought of snooping, but the paranoia that had been growing inside him wouldn't let him stop. His hands shook as he picked up the phone, his heart pounding in his chest as he unlocked the screen and opened the call log.
The name he saw nearly made him drop the phone.
Manon.
He had known about her, of course. Rody had mentioned her in passing-a classmate, someone from his past-but it had always seemed so insignificant. But now, seeing her name in the call log, with a history of calls that lasted far too long, something twisted in Vincent's gut.
Without thinking, Vincent opened the messages, scrolling through the thread. His vision blurred as he read through them, each word a stab to his already fragile heart.
**Manon:** *I can't believe how much I've missed talking to you.*
**Rody:** *I know. It's like old times again. I've missed you too.*
**Manon:** *Do you remember that day at the beach?*
**Rody:** *How could I forget? That was the best day of my life.*
Vincent's breath caught in his throat, his chest tightening as he continued to scroll.
**Manon:** *Sometimes I think about us, about what we had.*
**Rody:** *Me too. I wonder if... maybe we should have tried harder. Maybe we could have made it work.*
Vincent's hand shook so violently that he almost dropped the phone. He didn't need to read any more. The message was clear: Rody didn't love him. Rody never had.
