Xavier

His name was Xavier. My Xavier. The boy who once looked at me like I held the stars in my palms. We were young, reckless, in love — or at least I thought so. He called me his everything, his forever, his wife in more than just words. He used to say, “I love you to... I don’t even know, it’s more than infinity.” And I believed him. I really did. But then I saw him. Hands that once held mine like they were sacred — now wrapped around another woman. Not in a friendly hug. No. In a way that made my chest burn and my world crack like glass under pressure. And in that moment, I didn’t just lose him. I lost the version of me who believed love like that couldn’t lie.