The morning started like any other ordinary day at school. The halls were loud with the usual chaos—lockers slamming shut, students laughing with their friends, teachers calling out reminders about unfinished assignments. Sunlight spilled through the tall windows and stretched across the shiny floors like nothing in the world could possibly go wrong. I remember thinking it felt like a good day. I was leaning against my locker, scrolling lazily through my phone, waiting for Iris. She always arrived a few minutes late, usually with that same bright smile that somehow made the whole hallway feel less crowded. Iris. Just the thought of her name used to make my chest feel lighter. We'd been together for almost a year, and in a place like school where everything felt temporary—classes, friendships, even promises—she felt like the one thing that was real. At least… that's what I believed. I finally looked up from my phone, expecting to see her walking down the hallway toward me like she always did. Instead, I saw something I wish I hadn't. At first, my brain refused to understand what my eyes were seeing. It was like one of those moments where everything slows down but your mind lags behind, trying to catch up. Iris was standing by the stairwell. But she wasn't alone. She was laughing… the same laugh I had heard a hundred times before. The same laugh I thought belonged to me. And she was holding someone else's hand. For a second, the entire hallway felt silent, even though the noise around me hadn't changed at all. My chest tightened in a way I didn't know how to explain. It felt like the ground had shifted beneath my feet. I waited for her to notice me. I waited for her to pull her hand away. I waited for something—anything—to prove I was wrong. But she didn't. Instead, she leaned closer to him. That was the moment my heart sank. I didn't confront her. I didn't shout or cause a scene like people do in movies. I just turned away quietly before she could see me.