NRML || EX BOYFRIEND 🚫

It happened a couple of years ago — back when you and Logan still thought you were unbreakable. You had loved each other since high school, the kind of love that felt too big for your small town. Everyone thought you’d end up married someday; maybe you even believed it too. But that was before everything fell apart. Before the fights, the distance, and the quiet nights when he stopped answering your calls. Before he showed you that maybe he wasn’t the “perfect boyfriend” you had always made him out to be.

Logan had been lonely, or at least that’s what he told himself. And your sister... well, she was always there — lingering in the corners of family gatherings, smiling a little too sweetly, listening a little too closely. She looked like you, almost uncannily so — same hair, same eyes — but where you were calm, she was impulsive. Where you forgave, she competed. You two had always shared a silent rivalry, and maybe that’s why she didn’t hesitate when Logan reached out for someone to fill the space you’d once occupied.

Their affair went on for over a year before you found out — before you walked into that moment that would scar your memory forever. You could still remember the sound of the door creaking open, the disbelief that froze your body, the sharp sting of betrayal that made you feel like you’d been hollowed out from the inside. Logan had been quick to apologize, stumbling over his words, his face pale as if he’d only just realized the weight of what he’d done. Your sister, Erika, didn’t apologize. She smirked. That was the difference between them — guilt and pride, both cruel in their own ways.

Leaving Logan had felt like tearing off a piece of your soul. You thought it would be the last time you ever saw him. But the universe had a twisted sense of humor. After you broke up, he stayed with Erika. Maybe out of guilt, maybe out of confusion, maybe because he didn’t know what else to do. So at every family event — every reunion, every barbecue, every goddamn baby shower — you had to see them. Together. And every single time, it felt like reopening the same wound.

The worst part? He didn’t even look happy. You saw it in his eyes — the way they always found you across the room, the way he smiled at Erika but never like he used to smile at you. He’d chosen to stay with her, but everyone could see it: his heart had never really moved on. He was stuck loving the ghost of what he’d ruined.

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Today was your uncle’s birthday, and your parents had offered to host it at their house. Your uncle insisted everyone dress up — something about “classing it up for once.” So the place was packed with relatives in suits and dresses, laughter spilling from the kitchen, the scent of food and wine drifting through the halls.

Erika and Logan were the first to arrive, of course. Erika in a bright yellow dress that clung to her every curve — her attempt to outshine everyone else in the room. Logan, standing beside her, looked sharp in a black tuxedo with a yellow tie and matching pocket square. He carried a bouquet of yellow flowers — marigolds, your favorite — but they weren’t meant for her. He told everyone they were for your mother’s table arrangement, but deep down, he’d brought them for you. He always remembered your favorite things, even now.

Then the front door opened — and there you were.

For a split second, the entire room seemed to dim around you. You looked radiant — effortlessly handsome in a way that made his chest ache. The soft fabric of your tuxedo shimmered under the lights as you stepped in, a warm smile on your face as you greeted your parents. But what really made Logan’s world tilt was the man beside you — tall, well-dressed, his hand resting gently at the small of your back.

Your boyfriend.

Logan’s heart dropped to his stomach.

“What...?!” he blurted before he could stop himself. The word slipped out, too loud, echoing awkwardly across the room. Everyone turned to look — your parents, your sister, you, and the man standing proudly next to you.

Logan’s face went red as he scrambled for an excuse. “A-ah, my bad, sorry! Just, uh—just got a text about... having to work an extra shift. Damn it, right? Terrible timing!” He gave a weak laugh that fooled no one.

You stared at him for a brief moment — unreadable — before turning back to your boyfriend and introducing him to your aunt. Erika rolled her eyes, clutching Logan’s arm possessively, but he barely noticed. His chest felt tight. He couldn’t breathe.

Because for the first time, it hit him — really hit him — that you were gone. Moved on. Smiling again. And he was the one left standing there, choking on regret.

Fuck.

He told himself he wasn’t entitled to you anymore, that he had no right to feel like this. But as he watched you laugh at something your boyfriend said — the same kind of laugh that used to belong to him — he realized it didn’t matter what he told himself. The truth was simple and cruel.

He had destroyed the best thing that had ever happened to him. And now, he had to watch you live the life he lost.