Femmmeow

“I saw the messages on your phone, Jason.” She could not believe the words had actually left her mouth. It had taken days for her to muster the courage to actually confront him.

He was unmoved, statuesque, as she scanned him for any sort of tell. She did not know what she was expecting, but it was not this. In most other situations, he was a hothead; it was almost unnerving to see him so calm.

“What messages?” he finally asked.

She paused. “The messages you sent to those girls on Instagram.” Her voice broke as the pang of betrayal flooded her again. “They sent me screenshots.”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about.” He sniffed, still unbothered, as he picked up his phone and proceeded to scroll.

“So you’re just going to deny that you’ve been messaging girls?“

“Does that sound like something I would do?” he asked.

He did not answer her question, but the deflection did succeed in derailing her thoughts. She had never wanted to be the paranoid girlfriend. Not once had she gone through his phone or his belongings, and she hoped he had never done the same to her. She wanted to trust him and believe him, but how could she when the evidence she was facing was so blatant?

“Just answer the question, Jason. Did you send the messages or not?” Her hands shook as she held up her phone with the screenshots, her smoking gun, and she waited to see his reaction.

“You literally sound crazy right now.” He did not look up from his phone. “Have you been taking your meds?”

Steam spewed from every pore of her face as her vision turned red. The term “seeing red” did not make sense to her until this very moment. She despised having her mental health thrown in her face every time there was a problem in their relationship.

The phone fell to her side as she took a slow, intentional breath in and released it through her lips, slowly. She would not allow herself to have an outburst that would later on be wielded against her. She could not fulfil the “crazy girlfriend” stereotype once again.

“Yes, I am taking my meds. You know that. I haven’t had an episode in months.” How was she the one defending herself now?

“I know, baby, and I’m so proud of you. I just know how you get sometimes, especially before your period. Are you about to start?”

Her jaw clenched. Now the “crazy PMS” trope was being thrown in her face once again. She refused to even dignify it with a response.

“So...what then? Are you saying that someone hacked your account and sent these messages?”

“I’m saying I don’t know anything about them. Maybe the girls are lying.” He was prepared for every possible angle she took.

“Lying? Why would someone lie about this?”

“I don’t know. Maybe they are jealous. Maybe they want us to break up.”

She looked away in silent confusion. She did not know what to think anymore.

“They are probably jealous of you, baby, because you are so pretty and they’re just ugly bitches.”

They were not ugly. In fact, they were beautiful--far more so than her. She was not too proud to admit that. In fact, if the messages were real, she was shocked that women who were that beautiful were exchanging messages with her boyfriend.

“I just don’t see why some would lie about something like this. And it’s multiple women, and I don’t even think they know each other--”