Chapter 1

Six years.

That' s how long Nicole and I had been together. We met in college. I was a quiet guy from a blue-collar town in Ohio, studying computer science, completely invisible. She was Nicole Anderson, the "it girl," the one every guy wanted and every girl wanted to be.

Dating her felt like I'd won the lottery. It also set the power dynamic for our entire relationship. I was the lucky one, the one who should be grateful, the one who had to work to keep her.

And for six years, I did.

The biggest problem was always Ryan Lester. Her college ex. A smooth-talking, trust-fund musician who never really left the picture. They were "just friends," a phrase that felt like a constant, low-grade fever in my life. He lived in the same city, always needing her for something-a shoulder to cry on, an ego boost, a reminder of what they used to have.

It was a source of constant anxiety, a recurring fight we had over and over.

Tonight, it all came to a head at a Super Bowl party. The place was packed with our old college friends, the air thick with the smell of beer and buffalo wings. Nicole was on her fourth or fifth White Claw, laughing loudly, the center of attention as always.

Ryan was right there with her, his arm draped casually over her shoulders. I watched them from across the room, a familiar knot tightening in my stomach.

Then it happened. As the crowd got louder, someone yelled a dare. Ryan grinned, a slick, practiced smile. He leaned in and kissed her. It wasn't a peck. It was a deep, dramatic, movie-style kiss right in the middle of the room.

The music seemed to cut out. The chatter died. Every single person turned to look at me, their faces a mixture of pity and morbid curiosity, waiting for the explosion.

I felt nothing. Just a strange, hollow calm.

I raised my beer bottle in a mock toast.

"Encore!" I said, my voice steady, a deadpan smile on my face.

The silence in the room became heavy, suffocating. Nicole stared at me, her drunken haze evaporating, replaced by pure shock. Ryan just looked smug.