The security footage played on loop in front of me, each frame twisting the knife deeper into my chest. Tara climbing onto that motorcycle behind Ahaan, her arms wrapping around his waist with a trust she'd never shown me. The way she'd leaned into him as they drove away into the night away from me.

My fist connected with the wall before I'd even realized I was moving. The impact sent a sharp crack through the wall plaster, blood seeping from my split knuckles. But the physical pain was nothing absolutely nothing compared to the rage and desperation burning through my chest like poison.