The sun fully disappeared on the short drive home, ending the beautiful sunset I had seen at school. By the time I pulled into my driveway, the sky was dark and the air had chilled a few degrees. It was still summer, but the nights were beginning to get cooler.

Most of the lights were on inside the house, even though my parents had texted that they were working late. It gave me an odd feeling, but I brushed it off as I unlocked the door and stepped inside.

I felt my phone vibrate and looked down at the new notification while I walked in, setting my bag down by the stairs. I was so lost in Mia's text that I didn't notice the silhouette slumped in one of the plush white lounge chairs.

"Um... hi, Olivia."

I dropped my phone and tripped at the sound of the familiar, raspy voice.

"What are you doing here, Thomas?" I almost screamed, immediately crossing my arms over my chest in a defensive stance.

He sighed, looking down at his lap. I watched him slowly run his hand through his hair just like I used to do. Our relationship seemed like another lifetime, even though it only ended a week ago.

"Well?" I asked, impatient at his silence. "How did you even get in here?"

This must have been an easier question because he answered quickly. "Uh... I have a house key. You know that."

I silently cursed myself for forgetting. Thomas and I had been close friends before ever engaging in a relationship, so my parents knew him well. They gave him a spare key about a year into our relationship. They had also been friends with Thomas's parents, so it hadn't seemed that weird at the time. Now, however, I wished they never had. I hated that he had betrayed me and still had access to my house.

"Look, can we talk? Please?" His eyes were wide as he pleaded with me. I used to find them so earnest and beautiful, but I couldn't help but suspect that more lies were hiding behind them now. Their once-brown color seemed piercingly black as he stared at me, a veneer of sadness covering his face.

I rolled my eyes in response and stepped further away from him, narrowing my eyes. I tried my hardest to maintain a cold exterior, even though the sight of him was ruining me. His familiar face was marred with the memories of last week's party. I didn't know how long I could hold back my tears, but it probably wasn't long.

"Olivia, please." Thomas stood up and took a step toward me. I immediately backed up further and he hesitated. "I miss you." His voice cracked and I saw tears form in his eyes.

"Wow, how long did it take you to rehearse that?" I asked, attempting a cynical laugh. He flinched back as if I had slapped him, but I continued. "Thomas, you need to get the fuck out of my house."

"Olivia, stop. Just let me explain." He pleaded, taking another step toward me.

I tried to snap back at him but I couldn't voice anything over the lump that was forming in my throat. Please, please, don't let me cry in front of him, I thought to myself. I hated looking vulnerable. I didn't want him to know just how bad he had hurt me. He didn't deserve the satisfaction.

"I never meant to hurt you, baby. I feel so awful. I'm such an idiot." He said quickly, the words tumbling from his mouth.

"You got that right." I interrupted him under my breath.

He sighed loudly, but kept going. "I miss you so much, I can't breathe. This has been the worst week of my life, Olivia. Please, you have to forgive me. Please, baby." He plopped back down in the chair, grabbing his hair roughly in exasperation.

I had to admit that his words tugged at my heartstrings. He sounded just as broken as I felt, and for a second I let myself believe him. I let myself fall back into the fantasy of mending our relationship and starting fresh, reviving all our old traditions. I looked into his dark eyes and hesitated, remembering all the warm memories I had with him. For those few moments, I made up my mind. I stepped towards him, and he stood up in response. I saw his eyes begin to glow with hope, and I wished that I could take it all back and just feel his familiar embrace.

And then, I saw it. As he stood up and took a step toward me, his t-shirt shifted slightly. The soft green fabric moved, revealing a sliver of pale skin on his shoulder that had a purple sheen to it. I took another step closer, examining the bruise at the base of his neck. It didn't take a genius to know what it was.

Thomas had a large, red hickey on his neck, and it definitely happened recently.

I felt my expression harden, though my lips began to quiver. "Is it over?" I tried to ask him, but my voice came out as a strangled whisper.

Thomas looked at me questioningly, unsure of what I was saying.

"Is it over with that other girl?" He gulped, obviously not expecting that I would ask that. In the past, I probably would have avoided the topic to protect myself from embarrassment. I didn't care anymore, though. I just needed to know.

"Of course it is." He responded, the corners of his lips turning up weakly in chagrin. He didn't look down, or rub his neck, or any of the other classic signs of lying. His body language revealed nothing.

I hesitated, swallowing noisily.

His dark eyes stared back at me, waiting for my answer. They seemed sincere, but there was something off-putting in his expression. The hickey, the key, it all didn't add up. Why had he waited so long to talk to me? Why hadn't he run after me at the party?

The emotions swirling around in his expression were too deep for me to handle. He looked at me like he was terrified of what I would respond, terrified that he would lose me. I watched his eyes follow my frown, dropping slightly. The negative part of me thought that if he really couldn't live without me, he wouldn't have waited a week. He wouldn't have even cheated on me in the first place. The positive side of me, though, wanted to redeem him. We had dated for years, and everybody makes mistakes. We had been such a good couple, and I had loved him with my whole heart. Or maybe I still loved him.

The word "love", ironically, made my heart sink.

Three years of dating, and Thomas had never said it to me. Not once.

That thought made up my mind. There was no way that I would let that cheating douche back into my life. No matter how bad it hurt, I had to shut him up. I owed myself that much.

"Thomas, you need to leave." I finally said, breaking the tense silence that surrounded us.

I looked away as his face fell. I couldn't let him sway my decisions with pity. Sure, his sadness seemed real, but so had our relationship. He had been lying to my face for who knows how long, and he had seemed truthful then.

"Please, Olivia. Please give me another chance." He whispered, bringing a hand up to touch my cheek. He had done this countless times in our relationship, but it didn't send butterflies through my stomach like it used to. It felt cold and foreign, and I flinched away.

My reaction must have been definitive to Thomas, because he resignedly stepped away.

"No, Thomas. It's over," was all I managed to get out. I wanted to cuss him out, or even slap him, but I didn't have the energy left.

Thomas nodded slowly. "I understand. I'm so sorry, Olivia."

I just nodded at him as he finally trudged to the door. Before he opened it, he turned around and handed me a bag. I hadn't noticed him carrying it before.

He answered my questioning glance. "It's... it's your stuff. Y'know, clothes and things you left at my house."

My heart dropped again while I examined that contents of the bag. All the old clothes that I had left at his house were there, along with photos and movies from over the years. Even though I had just broken up with him, the thought that our relationship was really over hurt me. The bag was full of memories that I would never get to continue.

He waited for me to say something for a few moments, but eventually he gave up and opened the door. As he trudged out the door, I remembered something.

"Wait!" I yelled after him, and he turned around with a hopeful expression. Even in my desolate state, I got a sort of sadistic thrill that I would be able to crush his hope.

"Give the key back." I said in the harshest voice I could manage.

He looked down at his feet before walking back up the steps, digging around in his pocket. He held the key out to me, his sad expression likely mirroring mine.

I reached out to grab it, but he didn't let go. He leaned it a bit closer to me, forcing me to meet his gaze.

"I will always be here for you, Olivia." He said quietly.

I ignored his last-ditch effort to win me back. I wouldn't let him persuade me to forget about the cheating again.

"Save it." I told him, yanking the key away and slamming the door. I stood there in silence for a moment before hurling the key into the bowl by the door with the rest of the house keys.

I picked up the bag he had left me and threw that too, grabbing each item and chucking it at the wall opposite me. Every t-shirt, every dress, every movie that we had watched together. I grabbed the teddy bear that he had given me and ripped off its ear before throwing it across the room with all the other memories.

I wasn't usually a violent person, but somehow destroying these things made me feel a tiny bit better. I ripped up the photos that he had given back, scattering the pieces across the floor.

When I ran out of things to throw, I slid down the wall until I landed on the floor. I put my knees up and just sobbed, trying to dry the waterfall of tears with my shirt. He had taken the photos out of their frames in his bedroom to give back to me. He had given back the clothes I used to keep in his closet for emergencies. The teddy bear, the old bracelets, everything. It was like he was erasing me from his life.

I'm not sure how long I sat there, crying. My mom came in at some point and silently held me, thankfully not asking any questions. It would hurt even worse to talk about it.

My dad also came home, silently cleaning up the living room before coming the hug me from the otherside. He didn't complain about the mess I made, just handed me some soup and persuaded me to watch a movie.

I spent the rest of the night curled on the couch between my parents, watching silly movies to take my mind of it. They never asked questions, just let me sit in silence like I needed. I was grateful for their quiet support. My parents were always there for me when I needed them.

That night dragged on endlessly, and I barely slept. I woke up the next morning with a pounding migraine, and my parents surprisingly let me stay home from school. They usually prioritized school, but when I explained the full story of what had happened, they told me to stay home for the day.

I stayed in my pajamas for the majority of the day, getting ahead on my homework and watching a little Netflix. It got boring after a while, and I had just decided to go for a run when I heard the ringtone on my phone. When I picked it up, I saw a single text.

Shawn: I need your help. Come over ASAP.