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I moved to the sink, pretending she wasn't there. My fingers rubbed the soap into a lather, the rhythm grounding me. Her gaze bore into my back, heavy and unyielding. "Um, Kartier, can we ta-" "Don't call me that," I cut her off, my voice low but sharp. The nickname sat between us like a shard of glass, a reminder of everything we weren't anymore. I focused on washing my hands, refusing to meet her eyes. Her voice softened. "Well... Karter, can we talk? Please?" I turned slowly, squinting at her. "Why now, Aubrey? After five years? You know how weird that is?" My words were harsher than I intended, but the wound was still raw, even if the scar had formed over it. Her expression faltered, the shine in her eyes turning glassy. She looked away, and I could see her swallow hard, her chest rising and falling with the weight of whatever she wanted to say. "I can explain what happened," she started, her voice fragile, almost lost. "I just... I need you to let me. I want to clear things up between us." I studied her, trying to find the truth beneath her pleading eyes. Sympathy tugged at the edges of my resolve, but I buried it deep. She had her chance, and what she did-it still burned. "Clear things up?" I let out a dry laugh, my tone hollow. "I don't care, Aubrey. I don't need your explanations or your apologies. I don't want you calling me, texting me, none of that. Just... stay away from me."