TRISTAN POV
As I sat there, in the dimly lit corner of the room, the steady flow of alcohol from the bottle in my hand was the only thing keeping me grounded. Each swallow burned its way down my throat, a welcome distraction from the turmoil inside me.
But even as I tried to lose myself in the numbing embrace of alcohol, movement caught my eye—a couple heading toward the entrance of the house. They smiled, seemingly unaware of the curious glances cast their way, assumed to be a couple.
My heart sank as I recognized Sam's silhouette, her hand intertwined with another man's. My fists clenched involuntarily, muscles tensing as I watched their linked arms. I tried to look away, to divert my attention, but I couldn't ignore the sight. There she was, walking hand in hand with someone else.
I tried to look away, to focus elsewhere, but I couldn't tear my gaze from the scene unfolding before me. She looked radiant, her laughter like music, and yet, it stabbed me like a knife, a stark reminder of what I had lost.
Sam noticed me first, her smile fading as our eyes met across the room. I could see the surprise flicker in her expression, followed by a hint of guilt that she quickly hid with forced cheerfulness.
"Tristan," she said, her voice soft and unsure, as if uncertain of how to address me after all this time.
I didn't return Kent's smile as he greeted me, my attention solely on the woman who had once been the center of my world. His presence was nothing more than a minor distraction, a mere obstacle in the path of my gaze.
"Hey, Tristan, it's been a while," Kent said, offering a handshake.
I took it reluctantly, my grip firm but lacking warmth. "Kent," I replied shortly, barely acknowledging his presence as my attention stayed on Sam.
She shifted uncomfortably under my gaze, her eyes avoiding mine as if unable to bear it. "It's nice to see you," she said, her voice tinged with regret.
I remained silent, the space between us feeling insurmountable. What could I say to her now, after all that had happened? The pain was still fresh, the memories too raw to face.
"Done flirting?" My voice hinted at my dislike, and Sam flinched. She quickly regained her composure, glancing at the man beside her.
He looked puzzled, not getting what was going on between us. I could tell he wanted to ask, but he stayed quiet, giving me a cautious look instead.
I stared at him, my face cold, waiting for him to ask the question he clearly wanted to. If he wanted to know, he should just ask, and I'd tell him straight up—that what he's got belongs to me, that she's mine and no one else's.
But he stayed silent, and it made me really mad. How could he just stand there, not getting how upset I was? How could he act like he had any business being around her?
I moved closer, almost touching him. "You heard me?" I said, sounding serious. "Had enough flirting?"
Sam looked scared for a moment, then she acted like she didn't care. "Tristan, stop," she said quietly. "Not now."
But I didn't listen to her, only focused on the guy next to her. "Well?" I asked, getting louder. "Tell me."
He hesitated, looking unsure as he glanced at both of us. "I... I'm not sure what you mean," he said nervously.
I laughed, sounding mean in the silent room. "Obviously not," I said sharply, getting annoyed. "You're too clueless to see what's obvious."
The tension was heavy in the air, getting stronger by the second. Sam looked uneasy next to him, not sure what to do.
I stepped closer, almost touching him. "Let me make it clear," I said sarcastically. "You're stepping into my territory where you don't belong."
His face twisted in confusion, a moment of understanding appearing in his eyes. "Wait, are you...?" he started, his voice fading as he tried to understand.
Without letting him finish, I chuckled bitterly. "Well done, Sherlock," I spat, bitterness evident in my tone. "You've finally figured it out."
Sam's hand reached out to touch me, silently asking me to stop, but I brushed her off, my focus on him. "You think you can just walk in here and win her over?" I pressed, anger simmering. "Think again."
He backed away, his expression a mix of confusion and concern. "I didn't mean to... I didn't realize..." he stumbled, his words trailing off uncertainly.
I shook my head in disbelief, frustration reaching its peak. "Naturally," I snapped, my tone accusing. "You never understand, do you? You just wander through life, causing havoc."
Sam's hold tightened on me, her voice a soft plea. "Tristan, please, stop," she begged, her eyes pleading of understanding.
But I paid no attention to her, completely focused on the man standing in front of me, a harsh reminder of everything I had tried so hard to erase from my mind.
"You think you can just walk in here and claim what's mine?" I went on, my voice getting louder. "Well, you're mistaken. She doesn't belong to you."
He stepped back more, his hands up in surrender. "I didn't know... I didn't mean to..." he said again, his words fading away.
I laughed bitterly, the sound echoing in the room. "You never understand," I said harshly. "But it's too late. You chose, now deal with it."
He tried to speak, but I cut him off. "Better step back before it gets ugly," I warned, my tone threatening.
"You're pathetic," I scoffed, the words full of disgust. "Both of you."
And then, I turned and walked away, leaving him stunned. As I move through the crowded room, the anger within me began to lessen, replaced by a bitter understanding.
What was the point of confronting him? What good would it do to fight over someone who had already made their choice? Sam was no longer mine to claim, no longer the woman who had once held my heart in the palm of her hand.
And as I stepped out into the night, the cool breeze soothing my hurt ego, I realized it was time to release my grip. Time to let go of the fight I'd clung to and move forward, finding comfort in knowing some battles weren't worth it, some hurts not worth revisiting.
Because ultimately, what mattered most was finding peace within, even if it meant leaving behind the one who used to mean the world to me.