you

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The sound of the music faded into insignificance as the weight of their shared history hung heavy in the air. He clenched his fists, fighting against the urge to chase after her, to pull her back and make her see reason. But she had made her choice, again, and it felt like a knife twisting in his gut.

She never chose him and she never would.

Sophia, though comforting, felt like a band-aid over a gaping wound. Rafe forced a smile, trying to mask the turmoil inside him, but the effort felt hollow.

He could feel the eyes of the crowd lingering on him, their whispers a constant reminder of the scene he had just caused. "Just another night in paradise," he muttered sarcastically, shaking his head as he pulled Sophia closer, her presence doing little to ease the storm brewing inside him.

Across the room, Laila moved through the crowd, Cole at her side, but her mind was still on Rafe. His words echoed in her head, a haunting refrain that stirred up memories of laughter and love, but also of pain and regret. She could still feel the intensity of his gaze, the way it had pierced through the haze of the club and reached deep into her heart, igniting a fire that she desperately wished to extinguish.

"Are you okay?" Cole's voice cut through her thoughts, but there was an edge to his tone that made her stomach twist. He had sensed her distraction, and his protective demeanor only intensified her guilt.

"I'm fine," she lied, forcing a smile as they reached the bar. She ordered a drink, hoping to drown out the whirlwind of emotions that Rafe had stirred up. But as the liquid slid down her throat, it did little to ease the ache in her heart. She could feel the weight of Cole's gaze on her, a reminder that he was trying to be the man she needed, yet all she could think about was the man she had traded for him.

The club pulsed with energy, yet for Laila, it felt like a façade, a distraction from the storm brewing within her. She glanced back toward where Rafe had stood, half-expecting to see him watching her, but the crowd had already swallowed him up.

Back at the other end of the club, Rafe tried to shake off the feeling of loss that clung to him like smoke. Sophia was lovely, and he appreciated her presence, but she wasn't Laila. The echoes of their argument replayed in his mind, each word a reminder of the connection he feared was slipping away.

"Let's dance," he suggested to Sophia, needing to lose himself in the rhythm and forget. But as they moved to the beat, every sway and every laugh reminded him of Laila—of the way they used to dance, unbothered by the world around them. It was a bittersweet reminder that only deepened his sense of longing.

With each passing moment, the tension in Rafe grew unbearable. He could feel the anger simmering just beneath the surface, fueled by the sight of Laila laughing with Cole, her eyes sparkling with a joy that he had once known. A part of him wanted to scream, to shake her and demand that she remember everything they had shared, everything they could still have.

As the night wore on, the music began to blur together, and the faces around him faded into a haze. Rafe's heart ached with the realization that he was just a shadow of himself without Laila by his side. And somewhere, amidst the flashing lights and pulsing bass, Laila felt that same ache echoing in her chest.

The tension between them was palpable, a silent battle waging in the corners of the crowded club. Rafe's anger clashed with his desire to protect her, while Laila's longing fought against her need for independence. They were both trapped in a cycle of what could have been, haunted by the choices they had made.