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“Because you’re a free man.”

“But I didn’t cheat on you,” he says firmly, narrowing the distance between us.

“What I saw in that video is replaying in my head every second, and whenever I close my eyes, the images feel so real that it’s like they’re happening all over again right in front of me.”

I’m so tired that I don’t even have the strength left to argue or react anymore.

Zayn stops moving, leaving two steps between us. His expression crumples with helplessness as he looks at me, and seeing him like this only makes this hurt more.

I look at him with that same helplessness.

Because even if he didn’t cheat on me, I’ll never be able to forget what I saw.

“That video is never going to leave my mind, Zayn.” I give him a sad smile, drained from fighting a reality that keeps catching up to me no matter how hard I try to escape it. “I can’t condemn you for something you did before me, that’s true… but I could never let you touch me again. And I’m tired of a relationship where I spend every second during sex wishing for it to end faster. I’m not going to live my life like that again.”

My confession hits him so hard that he actually takes a step back.

“What did you say?” His voice sounds unsteady, he’s hoping he heard me wrong, understood me wrong, that maybe I just didn’t explain myself properly.

“The truth,” I say, lifting my chin. “I was in a relationship where I got cheated on constantly, where I stayed out of habit, where sex only happened because it was supposed to…”

He groans darkly, dragging both hands through his hair in agony.

“Selene, fucking stop mentioning sex with another man.”

“With you, Zayn, I enjoyed every second, every touch, and I always wanted more…” My throat tightens painfully. “But now I know I’d never truly be happy if we got back together. I wouldn’t be able to sleep with you without seeing you with them or wondering if what I give you isn’t enough…”

“Babe, it is enough,” he shouts, throwing his hands up. “You’ve always been enough. More than enough.”

With tears burning in my eyes, I stand up from the bed and walk to him until there’s barely any space between us. I don’t touch him. I just stare into those blue eyes that still send shivers through me every time they lock onto mine.

“I’m sorry, Zayn…” A single tear slips down my cheek and falls onto my shirt. “But our relationship is over.”

Then I walk past him, grab the backpack I left near the door, and lock myself inside the bathroom. Turning on the shower, still fully clothed, I step beneath the hot water and finally allow myself to cry.

I cry with relief because Zayn didn’t betray me.

I cry from the pain of how shattered I felt when I saw that video.

And I cry because my heart is breaking over a decision I know I have to live with, even though every part of me is screaming that I don’t want to lose him.

The hot water runs over my clothes, soaking through the fabric as my tears keep falling, impossible to distinguish from the water streaming down my face. My chest aches with every breath, and the more I try to accept what I’ve just done, the more unbearable it becomes.

I cry until there’s nothing left to fight with, nothing left to hold together. Until the room blurs around me and the sobs finally weaken, leaving behind an emptiness that feels far worse than the tears ever could.

Because there’s nothing more painful than loving someone with your entire soul, knowing they didn’t betray you, and still having to walk away from them because you can no longer find a way to stay.

THIRTY-NINE

Zayn

“I thought you forgot about us,” a girl from the crowd tells me, flashing a seductive smile.

I ignore her, opening the car door and sliding inside.

The smell of fire, gasoline, and everything else lingers in the air around me, a reminder that the second you step into this place, you enter a world completely detached from real life.

Every time I come to the races, I feel Denis beside me. The need to have him here, physically, is so strong that my jaw tightens as I force myself to push the feeling aside.