The next morning felt painfully awkward.
Sunlight spilled through the apartment windows while I sat at the kitchen counter nursing cold coffee and avoiding eye contact with Saraph entirely.
She stood near the stove making toast like she hadn't accidentally walked into the most humiliating moment of my life less than twelve hours ago.
Neither of us spoke for a while.
Then finally
"You know," She said casually, "most people lock doors."
I groaned immediately. "Please don't start."
"I'm just saying. Basic survival instincts."
I buried my face in my hands while she laughed quietly to herself.
But the amusement faded after a moment.
When I looked back up, Saraph was watching me carefully now.
More serious.
More thoughtful.
"You really like him?" she asked softly.
The question caught me off guard.
I stared down into my coffee. "Mateo?"
"Unless there's another guy dramatically throwing you around your apartment."
"Saraph."
"What? I saw enough to make educated assumptions."
I threw a napkin at her.
She dodged it easily before leaning against the counter with crossed arms.
Then her expression shifted completely.
"I know what you're trying to do, Nuella."
The teasing disappeared from her voice entirely.
My stomach tightened.
"What's that supposed to mean?"
"You're trying to move on from Daniel."
I looked away immediately.
Saraph sighed softly. "And honestly? I get it. After everything that happened, I understand why you'd want to."
"It's not just about moving on."
"Then what is it?"
I opened my mouth.
Nothing came out.
Because the truth was complicated.
Mateo made things easier.
Quieter.
Safer.
But Daniel…
Daniel still lived in the parts of me I couldn't seem to reach anymore.
Saraph walked closer slowly. "Nuella, stop whatever this is becoming with Mateo if your heart is still somewhere else."
"That's not fair."
"Isn't it?"
I stood up too quickly, irritation flaring instantly. "Daniel doesn't even want to talk to me anymore."
"That doesn't mean he stopped loving you."
I laughed bitterly. "You don't know that."
"Yes, I do."
Her answer came too fast.
Too certain.
And somehow that made it worse.
Saraph folded her arms tighter. "You think people don't notice him? The way he looks at you when you walk into rooms? The way he shuts down whenever somebody mentions your name?"
I stayed silent.
Because I had noticed.
I just pretended not to.
"He hurt you," Saraph continued carefully. "I know that. Nobody's defending what happened. But you two can't seriously let everything end like this."
My throat tightened painfully.
"Well, what am I supposed to do?" I snapped quietly. "He's happy now. He has Mira. He made his choice."
Saraph shook her head immediately. "That boy is not happy."
"You can't know that."
"I can." She paused. "And honestly? I think you know it too."
The apartment suddenly felt too small.
Too warm.
Too suffocating.
So I grabbed my cup just to have something to hold.
"Maybe I deserve to move on too," I whispered.
Saraph's face softened slightly.
"You do," she said. "But don't hurt somebody else while you're trying to heal yourself."
That one landed hard.
Because suddenly Mateo's face flashed through my mind.
His certainty.
His patience.
The way he looked at me like he was terrified to ask for more than I could give him.
She studied me carefully before speaking again.
"You like Mateo," she admitted. "I can tell."
"I do."
"But you're using him too."
The words hit like a slap.
"I'm not."
"Aren't you?"
I looked down instantly.
And that silence answered everything for both of us.
Saraph exhaled slowly before grabbing her bag from the counter.
"I'm not trying to attack you," she said quietly. "I just know you too well."
She moved toward the door before stopping briefly.
"And if you still love Daniel," she added softly, "then stop pretending indifference is the same thing as closure."
Then she left me standing alone in the kitchen with cold coffee, shaking hands, and truths I didn't know how to face.
I stayed in the kitchen long after Saraph left.
The apartment had gone quiet again except for the steady sound of rain against the windows.
Her words kept replaying in my head.
You're using him.
I hated how much that hurt because some part of me knew there was truth buried inside it.
My phone buzzed against the counter.
Mateo.
Mateo:
"You alive?"
I stared at the message for a long moment before replying.
Me:
"Unfortunately."
Three dots appeared instantly.
Mateo:
"Wow. Dramatic this early in the morning?"
Despite everything, I smiled a little.
Me:
"Saraph gave me a therapy session."
Mateo:
"Should I be scared?"
Me:
"Maybe."
A few seconds passed.
Then another message appeared.
Mateo:
"Come out."
I frowned immediately.
Walking toward the window, I pulled the curtain aside slightly.
And there he was.
Standing outside in a black hoodie with two coffee cups in his hands, looking up toward my apartment like he belonged there already.
My chest tightened.
Because this,
This was exactly the problem.
Mateo was becoming something real.
Ten minutes later, I joined him.
Mateo handed me one of the cups immediately. "You look stressed."
"I am stressed."
"Was Saraph mean to you?"
"She was honest."
Mateo hummed softly like he already understood where this conversation was heading.
The city moved quietly outside the windows while rain streaked across the glass.
Then finally—
"She thinks I'm using you."
Mateo's grip tightened slightly around the steering wheel.
But his expression didn't change.
"And are you?"
The question came calmly.
Too calmly.
I looked down at the coffee in my hands.
"I don't know."
That honesty seemed to hurt him more than a lie would have.
I saw it immediately in his face.
Not anger.
Just disappointment carefully hidden beneath composure.
Mateo leaned back against the seat, staring through the windshield for a moment before speaking.
"You still love him."
Not a question.
A fact.
I swallowed hard.
"It's complicated."
"No," he said quietly. "It's actually very simple."
The rain outside grew heavier.
"You look at me," he continued, "like you're trying to convince yourself to forget somebody else."
"That's not true."
"Nuella."
The way he said my name made my chest ache.
Because Mateo wasn't stupid.
He had seen every hesitation.
Every pause whenever Daniel's name appeared.
Every moment my attention drifted across crowded rooms searching for someone I claimed not to care about anymore.
Mateo exhaled slowly.
"I think you care about me," he admitted. "I really do."
"I do care about you."
"But not the way you care about him."
Silence.
Painful silence.
And again, my inability to answer became the answer itself.
Mateo laughed softly then, but there was no humor in it.
"That's brutal."
"I never wanted to hurt you."
"I know."
He rubbed a hand over his face before finally looking at me fully.
"You know what the worst part is?" he asked quietly. "I think Daniel knows too."
My head lifted immediately.
"What?"
"The way he watches us."
A knot formed instantly in my stomach.
Mateo's jaw tightened slightly.
"That guy looks at me like I'm borrowing something that already belongs to him."
"Mateo—"
"And honestly?" he interrupted softly. "Sometimes you look at me that way too."
The words shattered whatever fragile defense I still had left.
Tears burned suddenly behind my eyes before I could stop them.
Mateo noticed immediately.
His entire expression softened.
"Hey," he murmured quietly. "Don't cry."
"I hate this."
"I know."
"I hate that everything still comes back to him."
Mateo stared at me for a long moment before reaching over carefully and taking the untouched coffee from my hands.
Then he said the one thing I wasn't prepared for.
"If Daniel walked in right now and asked you to come back," he asked softly, "would you leave with him?"
The question destroyed the little air left in my lungs.
Because the answer came too fast inside my head.
And Mateo saw it on my face before I could even speak.
Mateo held my gaze quietly, waiting.
The rain tapped softly against the windshield between us.
"If Daniel walked in right now and asked you to come back… would you leave with him?"
I inhaled slowly before shaking my head.
"No."
Mateo's expression barely changed, like he didn't fully believe me yet.
"Nuella—"
"No, listen to me." I turned toward him properly now. "Daniel and I are done."
The words hurt to say out loud.
But they were still true.
"He's happy now," I continued softly. "He has Mira. He made his choice, and maybe I hated him for it for a while, but I can't keep living inside that pain forever."
Mateo stayed silent.
"I chose you," I whispered. "Maybe imperfectly. Maybe messily. But I still chose you."
Something fragile shifted in his expression then.
"I'm trying, Mateo."
His jaw loosened slightly as he looked away toward the rain-covered windows.
"And I won't go back to him," I added quietly. "So stop thinking you're temporary to me."
For a moment neither of us spoke.
Then Mateo finally reached for my hand, intertwining his fingers with mine slowly.
"You better not be lying to me," he murmured.
I squeezed his hand gently.
"I'm not."