Finn’s world detonates in an instant when the truth finally crashes into him with the force of a tidal wave, tearing through every illusion he has fought so hard to maintain, every fragile hope he has clung to in the desperate belief that his marriage, his family, his sense of stability might somehow survive the growing cracks beneath the surface, but the moment he hears the words he never wanted to hear, the moment Steffy’s trembling voice confirms what his instincts had been screaming for days, something inside him crumbles, shatters, collapses into a raw, roaring pain that surges up his throat as he stumbles back, shaking his head, begging her to deny it, begging her to say he’s misunderstood, begging her to tell him—through tears, through heartbreak, through anything—that it isn’t true, because the alternative feels like the end of everything he holds dear, and when Steffy breaks down, unable to hold his gaze, her tears falling fast and her breath fracturing into helpless sobs, Finn feels the floor drop out from beneath him, his chest tightening until he can barely breathe, and the betrayal—whether intentional or born from emotional desperation—stings like a wound ripped open without warning, leaving him reeling with disbelief, fury, and grief. Liam chooses the worst possible moment to appear, stepping forward with that familiar mix of wounded pride and self-righteous certainty, insisting that Steffy needs someone who truly understands her, that Finn’s instability has pushed her toward the arms she once trusted, arms that Liam is all too willing to offer again, and hearing him speak—hearing him dare to justify his presence, his interference, his constant shadow over Finn and Steffy’s marriage—snaps something feral inside Finn, who lunges forward in a burst of rage so swift and explosive that even Liam doesn’t have time to finish his sentence before Finn’s fist cracks across his jaw with a violent, echoing thud, sending Liam staggering back, stunned and breathless, his hand flying to his face as he struggles to regain balance while Finn, chest heaving, eyes blazing with betrayal and heartbreak, screams that Liam has poisoned everything, poisoned Steffy, poisoned their family, poisoned every chance Finn ever had at peace. Steffy cries out, rushing between them, her hands shaking as she tries to hold Finn back, tries to stop the next blow, the next eruption, the next wave of destruction threatening to swallow them whole, but her voice is barely more than a hoarse whisper, thick with tears and guilt as she begs them both to stop, begs Finn to look at her, begs Liam to leave, begs the universe to give them just one second to breathe before the world falls apart completely; yet nothing can slow Finn’s fury, nothing can quiet the roaring in his ears, nothing can touch the wild devastation thrashing inside him as he demands answers—real answers, not half-truths, not excuses, not emotional evasions—and Steffy, crumbling under the weight of her own choices, struggles to speak through trembling lips, insisting she never meant to hurt him, never meant to blur lines, never meant to let old vulnerabilities surface at the worst possible moment, but her apologies only deepen the wound because Finn trusted her with everything, trusted her to choose him, trusted her to stand beside him even when the shadows of the past tried to pull her back into familiar patterns, and hearing her confess that she let even a flicker of connection with Liam resurface sends a slicing agony through him that leaves him momentarily speechless, breathless, broken. Liam, ever the opportunist even in pain, tries to step forward again—tries to defend Steffy, tries to paint Finn as unstable, tries to position himself as the calm, dependable alternative—but one glare from Finn silences him, a glare so blistering it could set the air on fire, and Finn’s voice shakes with a mix of heartbreak and fury as he tells Liam to get out, to stay away from his wife, to stay away from his family, to stay away from everything that Finn has fought so hard to build, because every time Liam inserts himself into their lives, disaster follows, and as Liam hesitates, torn between pride and survival, Steffy shouts at him to leave, her sobs growing louder, her knees nearly buckling under the emotional weight of the moment. When Liam finally retreats, clutching his bleeding lip and throwing Finn one last wounded glance, the room becomes suffocatingly quiet, filled only with Steffy’s muffled cries and Finn’s ragged breathing, and the silence is somehow worse than the shouting, worse than the violence, worse than the emotional explosion that came before, because it is in this silence that the reality settles between them like a tombstone—their marriage is no longer unbreakable, their foundation no longer solid, their love no longer protected from the ghosts that have haunted them from the beginning. Steffy reaches for him, desperate, trembling, whispering his name like a prayer she hopes will save them, but Finn steps back, his eyes red with tears he refuses to blink away, his body shaking with devastation as he tells her he doesn’t know if he can forgive this, doesn’t know if he can live with the constant fear of losing her to the same man who has already taken so much from him, doesn’t know if their marriage can survive a crack this deep, a wound this raw, a betrayal this piercing. Steffy collapses into sobs, begging him not to give up, begging him to see the love they built, begging him to understand that she made a mistake but never stopped loving him, but Finn—his voice breaking, his hands trembling, his heart fracturing with each breath—whispers that he needs time, space, air, anything that isn’t suffocating under the weight of this pain, and without another word he walks out the door, leaving Steffy crumpled on the floor, crying into her hands as the world she fought so hard to protect finally caves in on itself, leaving nothing but heartbreak, regret, and the terrifying question of whether this time… she has truly lost him for good.