My Brother’s Keeper - Ch. 8
Yandere Girlfriend x M!Boyfriend Reader x Jock Rival x Rival
cw: Toxic Relationship, Break-Up, Panic Attack, Isolation, Gaslighting, Jealousy, Public Humiliation, Guilt, Self-Hatred, Crying, Manipulation
Divider Credits: @reevesoc @dividers-are-us @thecutestgrotto
The room smells like hairspray and something floral. Probably the citrus or something I dunno.
There’s one earring already in my ear, diamond cut, an heirloom from my godmother; the other one still sits on my vanity. The dress fits exactly how it’s supposed to. Of course it does. Emerald again, lighter this time. Sleeker. It hugs me in all the right places making sure he’ll know exactly where to put his hands on me. I tilt my head, checking the angle.
My phone is wedged between my shoulder and my ear, Maddie’s voice spills right through the speaker.
“-I’m telling you, if he shows up in that same navy suit from Homecoming, I’m actually leaving him outside.”
I laugh, picking up the second earring. “You’re not, that’s just the nerves talking.”
“I am! I swear-wait, are you done yet? Send me a picture.”
“Almost. Give me like two minutes.”
Another voice cuts in; Lia. “Heather, you’re literally going to outshine everyone tonight. I already know it.”
I look at my reflection, adjusting a loose strand of hair before smiling. “I don’t need to outshine anyone. I just need to look good.”
“You always look good,” Maddie scoffs. “That’s not the point.”
“Yeah,” Lia adds. “And you’ve got him with you? It’s basically unfair.”
My fingers pause for half a second, ‘She’s sort of right…isn’t she..?’ I shake my head, smoothing down the front of the dress. “Please. It’s just a dance.”
“‘Just a dance’?” Maddie echoes. “Girl, have you seen the way he looks at you?”
Instead, I pick up the phone, angling it just right, snapping a quick picture before sending it. The responses come instantly.
“Yeah, it’s over for everyone else.”
I hums to myself, pleased, setting the phone back down. ‘Of course it is.’
I move back to my vanity, picking up the small box sitting off to the side, the boutonnière. White with a touch of green to match the suit to the dress and the dress to the corsage. Subtle, but intentional. Everything about tonight is intentional.
On the phone, the conversation keeps going.
“So what time are we all meeting at yours again, Maddie?”
“Seven-thirty! Photos first, then we head out together.”
“Heather, you’re bringing him, right?”
“Obviously,” Maddie says before I can answer. “She’s not letting him out of her sight.”
They laugh. I smile but my eyes stay on the boutonnière.
‘Not letting him out of my sight.’
The words settle differently than they should. Another voice chimes in, softer this time. “You’re really lucky, you know.”
“Yeah,” Maddie agrees. “Like…you actually got a good one. Not like the usual idiots here.”
A lump grows in my throat.
My reflection stares back at me: Polished, composed, exactly what everyone expects her to be.
She sets the boutonnière down gently.
I made sure you noticed me. I made sure you stayed. I made sure no one else got close enough to take you.
Even the smaller ones that came and went; I trimmed them out, one by one, like loose threads.
On the phone, Maddie laughs. “I’m serious, Heather. You better not mess this up. Guys like him don’t just-” “I know.”
Silence flickers on the other end.
“I know…I’m not going to.”
My fingers curl slightly against the edge of the vanity. Because it wasn’t just chance. It wasn’t just chemistry. It was effort. Careful choices. Every conversation, every doubt.
Every distance widened just enough until you only had one place that felt easy.
‘I didn’t lie. Not really.’
Protected what I had. Protected you.
The reflection doesn’t argue. It just watches.
From the phone, someone says, “He’s obsessed with you, you know that right?”
The thought lingers longer than it should because if he is…
Then what does that make everything I did to get here?
My grip tightens on the vanity.
Because when you look at her tonight, none of that will be in your eyes.
It’ll just be her. Just this.
I pick up the boutonnière again, more carefully this time, like it’s something fragile.
“I’ll see you guys soon.” She says with a smile. “Don’t start without me.”
The call ends and the room goes quiet.
I look at her one last time. Perfect dress, perfect hair, smile.
And underneath it; something sharper, something that refuses to loosen its grip.
She presses her lips together, steadying it.
‘This is what you wanted.’
My hand tightens slightly around the boutonnière.
‘So don’t second-guess it now.’
I’m not ready when the doorbell rings.
I’m standing in front of my mirror, turning slightly to check the way the dress falls when the sound cuts through the house. For a second, I just stare at my reflection.
My heart does something light and quick in my chest. I smooth my hands down the sides of my dress anyway; once, twice, then move before I can overthink it.
“Got it!” I call, already halfway down the stairs.
When I open the door, I forget whatever I was about to say. You’re standing there, shoulders squared in that black tux like it was made for you. Clean lines, sharp edges, everything sitting exactly where it should. There’s something about the way you carry yourself tonight; quiet, steady, that makes my chest tighten.
“Wow,” I breathe, before I can stop myself. “You look…”
I smile instead. “You look really good.”
You smile back, a little softer. “You too.”
There’s a pause. Not awkward. Just…held.
Then I tilt my head slightly. “You’re early.”
“Yeah,” you say, rubbing the back of your neck. “I just…didn’t really have anything else to do.”
Something about the way you say it makes me still. “What do you mean?” I ask, gentler now.
You shrug, like it’s nothing. “Bennet’s not coming,” you say. “Noah and I aren’t really talking. And it’d be kinda weird to just show up at Maddie’s without you.”
“And I don’t even know if Jonah would…you know. Talk to me.”
It lands heavier than anything else. I keep my face the same. Soft. Understanding.
“Oh,” I say quietly, stepping a little closer. “Hey… it’s okay.”
It’s not okay. I did this.
I feel it immediately; that flicker in my chest, sharp and unwelcome. The memory of every small nudge, every interruption, every time I made it easier for you to walk away from them and toward me.
That’s what I told myself.
That I was protecting you.
And now you’re standing here, dressed up, early, because there’s no one else to be with before me. My stomach twists.
But I don’t let it reach my face.
Instead, I step fully into your space, my hand coming up to rest lightly against your arm.
“You’ve got me,” I say, voice warm, certain. “That’s what matters tonight, right?”
You nod. Of course you do.
I lean in before I can think too hard about it and press a soft kiss to your cheek. You smell like cologne, like apples. “Come on,” I murmur. “We don’t need anyone else.”
I pull back with a smile, slipping past you toward the car before you can catch the hesitation that almost showed. The night air is cool against my skin as I slide into the front seat beside you.
I glance at you once more, taking you in again; letting the image settle…
‘Mine. Completely mine for tonight.’
The guilt tries to rise again.
I push it down. Hard. Because tonight isn’t about that. Tonight is about us. About the way you showed up early just to be with me. About the way everyone’s going to look at us when we walk in together.
About the way you’ll look at me. I turn toward you, smiling like nothing in the world is out of place.
“I’ve been waiting all day for this,” I say under my breath.
And for now…I let myself believe it’s enough.
Too loud, too bright, too much. It’d be overwhelming for anyone else, but not for me.
I step into the gym beside you and feel it settle over me like a second skin. The lights, the decorations, the low hum of voices layered over the bass; it all bends, just a little, when I walk in. Not because I’m imagining it.
Because I know how to move in a room like this. My hand slips into yours, fingers lacing easily as I guide us forward. I take it all in.
Maddie by the photo backdrop, already posing like she belongs on a cover. The cheer girls clustered near the punch table. The jocks loud, careless, predictable. The rest of the sophomore class scattered in little constellations of familiarity and hierarchy.
Allies. Friends. People who matter.
He’s just stepping in, Clair on his arm. She looks polished, composed, exactly what you’d expect from her. He looks…tighter. Shoulders a little stiff. Eyes scanning the room like he’s bracing for it instead of enjoying it.
My gaze lingers a second too long, then shifts, Noah’s across the room.
He sees me almost immediately. Of course he does.
There’s a flicker, recognition, something sharper, and then he looks at you. Really looks.
And just like that, he turns.
‘Good. One less variable.’
I tighten my grip on your hand without thinking.
“You okay?” you ask, glancing at me.
I smile instantly. “Yeah. Just…taking it all in.” I pull you along, weaving us into the crowd.
“Hey!” Maddie calls when she spots us. “There they are!” Compliments come quickly. Predictably.
“You guys look insane.” “Best dressed, easy.” “Heather, I’m actually mad at you.” I laugh, deflecting, leaning into you just enough that it looks and feels natural.
We move from group to group, conversation to conversation. I keep it light, easy, controlled. You follow my lead, like you always do, and it works. It always works.
But I can feel it. That slight pull in your attention. It happens when we pass the tables, when your eyes drift. I don’t need to follow your gaze to know where it lands.
“Let’s sit for a bit,” I say, gentle but firm, tugging your hand toward an empty table. “We’ve been walking around forever.”
You don’t move. “Heather…”
“It’s fine. We don’t have to-”
‘No, you don’t. You want something else.’
I squeeze your hand. “We can later. Just…give it a little time, okay?”
That word does something to me. The way your voice sounds when you say it does something more.
And for a second, the room feels louder than it should and my chest tightens.
I look at you. Really look at you.
And I can see it now: That small gap where other people used to fit. The long list of names I pushed out.
So many I can’t even remember. All gone quiet around you because I made it that way.
Why not. The night’s still young and we’ve got all the time in the world.
I turn before I can change my mind.
Jonah sees us before we reach him.
His expression shifts; surprise first, then something more guarded. Clair notices a second later, her posture straightening just slightly.
I keep my composure. “Hey! You guys look nice.”
Clair smiles first. “Thanks. You too.”
Jonah’s eyes flick between us; between you and me, and settle somewhere in the middle.
And just like that, for the first time in a long time, we’re all standing in the same space again.
The tension, the history, the things I've might've said, that I implied. It’s all still here.
I tighten my hold on your hand, just slightly. Just enough to remind myself that you're with me.
I don’t know why I do it; I’ve done everything right. So why does it feel wrong?
The moments long gone as I rest my head briefly against your shoulder while swaying gently listening to the music thrum through your chest. Your hands are so warm.
I pull back just enough to look at you. “You okay?..” I ask, softer than the music.
You nod immediately. “Yeah. I’m good.” Your smile comes too quickly.
‘You’ve always been like this. You don’t make people worry about you yet somehow they always do.’
I want to press, I almost do, but I don’t. Instead, I smile back, brushing it off like it’s nothing. “Okay.”
We dance a little longer. Talk a little more. Move through the night the way we’re supposed to, but my hands don’t get any warmer and the churning of my stomach gets harder.
Eventually, I step back, brushing my hands down my dress. “I’m gonna go to the bathroom, I’ll be right back, okay?”
I don’t move yet; in fact, I study you for just a second longer, “Hey…are you sure you’re okay? Like… actually?”
You meet my eyes, “I’m good. Promise.”
I search your face and there’s nothing there that I can prove is wrong. So I nod. “Okay.” I lean in, pressing a quick kiss to your cheek then turning to leave before I can second-guess it.
As I walk away, the noise swallows me again.
‘And for the first time all night…you’re alone.’
Not surrounded by her and her friends, just there.
‘Might as well take the opportunity.’
Your shoulders don’t even tense, like you were expecting this to happen.
Facing you is me. Standing just a few feet away, hands tucked into my pockets, jacket already off, don’t need it anyway, the room’s already hot as is. Your eyes gaze at me the same way Ms. Santos studies my paintings. Brutally honest.
“Didn’t think I’d get you alone tonight.”
Your gaze flicks briefly back to where Heather disappeared, then back at me, and I just have to ask…
“I’m not here to start anything…Just…wanted to talk.”
You fold your arms slightly. “We’ve talked. Didn’t really go great.”
“That’s fair… Look, I’m not trying to rehash all that. Honestly? I’m tired of it.”
You raise an eyebrow. “Tired of what?”
“Everything being…weird. Between you, me, Jonah…everyone. I said some things. You heard some things. And now we’re just…This.”
You study me again. “And that’s not on you?”
There’s a beat, you shift your weight slightly.
“You didn’t seem like you thought that before.”
The silence settles for a second. ‘Keep it going, Klien…’
“I’m not asking you to forget everything, or pretend all this…tension doesn’t exist. Just…not let it ruin tonight.”
You glance around the room; the lights, the music, the people. “This isn’t really my scene anyway.”
That almost gets a smile out of you.
“Look; I’m not trying to take up your whole night. Or mess anything up with…well…I just didn’t want to keep walking around like we’re enemies.”
You hesitate. “…We’re not enemies.”
“There’s something else.”
You tense slightly. “What.” I try to meet your eyes.
“You should talk to Jonah.”
That catches you off guard. “What?”
“Just…hear me out. You don’t have to do anything. I’m just saying…there’s stuff there that never got cleared up and I think some conversation might make everything better.”
You frown. “We’ve talked.”
“No. No, you haven’t. You’ve…brushed past each other.”
‘That feels uncomfortably accurate.’
“He’s not gonna come up to you. Not without your go ahead.”
You glance across the room. Jonah’s still there. Sitting with Clair. Talking but not fully there either.
Your chest tightens slightly.
“He’s been weird all week. After that assignment with Heather.”
Your eyes flick back to me. “What about it?”
“Doesn’t matter. Point is…you should hear him out. Or let him hear you out.”
You cross your arms again, thinking. “And why do you care?”
There’s nothing I can say to that, even I don’t know at this point, a faint smile tugs at my mouth. “I don’t.”
You give me a look. ‘Fuck.’
“Okay, maybe I do. A little.”
I look at you longer than I should; then I look away. “Because this whole thing’s dumb. And it doesn’t have to be.”
‘That’s not the full answer.’
You can tell but it’s enough to get you to glance back toward Jonah again. He’s laughing at something Clair says but it looks forced.
“…He’s probably busy,” you say, quieter now.
I follow your gaze. “Trust me. He won’t be if you walk over there.”
You hesitate, I understand why. For a moment, it feels easier to stay exactly where you are, to stay in that comfortable place because it won’t ruin what you already have.
Then you look back at me.
“That’s all I’m askin’ for.”
You nod slowly. “Alright.”
I step back slightly, giving you all the space you need. “Good. That’s…good.”
You start to move past me, then you stop, looking deep into my eyes. “…We’re…good, right?” you ask.
All I can do is huff a quiet laugh. “Getting there, hopefully….”
You nod once, and make your move.
The second you approach him, Jonah sits up straighter.
Clair’s mid-sentence when you stop beside their table, and Jonah’s eyes snap to yours so quickly it almost startles you.
“Hey,” he answers immediately.
You hesitate for only a second. “You wanna…take a walk or something?”
Jonah’s already standing before you even finish the sentence. “Yeah,” he says quickly. “Yeah, okay.”
Clair blinks between the two of you. “Oh.”
Jonah finally looks back at her. “I’ll be back in a bit.” There’s apology in his tone, but no hesitation.
Clair forces a smile. “Sure.”
And then the two of you are gone.
For a while, you just walk. Not saying a word to each other before you ultimately find the courage to speak up.
“So, uh, how’ve you been? Like… actually.”
Jonah exhales through his nose, hands buried deep in his pockets. “Busy. Football stuff. Classes…trying to keep up. You?”
You smile a little. “Good,” you admit. “Better than good, honestly.”
And once you start talking, it keeps coming; like you never stopped.
“Heather’s been taking me all over the place. We went into the city a couple times.” You laugh softly. “Her mom’s obsessed with the museums downtown. She talks about it so much that I've started doing my own research to keep up.”
Jonah smiles faintly at that.
“And I’ve been sleeping better n' eating better too. I dunno. I just feel more…steady."
Jonah nods slowly and it hurts. Not because you’re happy but because you sound safe. More comfortable in your own skin than he’s maybe ever seen you.
You walk differently now, talk differently too. Shoulders back, voice clearer, you don’t shrink yourself between sentences anymore.
Jonah notices all of it. And despite everything twisting inside him, part of him is proud. “You deserve that,” he says quietly.
You glance at him, surprised by how sincere it sounds. Then you smile again. “What about you?” you ask. “How was vacationing with Clair?”
Jonah shrugs lightly. “Loud.”
“No, seriously. Her parents are…intense. They're nice. Just intense.”
He leaves out the parts that matter. How many times he checked his phone hoping for a text from you. How many photos he stared at too long before locking his screen again. How empty everything felt, even surrounded by people.
Instead he tells you about the weather, the food, football conditioning starting back up. You listen the way you always do.
“Sounds like you’re doing okay,” you say after a while.
Jonah laughs softly. “Trying to.”
You look at him more carefully then and the smile on your face fades just a little. “You’ve been weird."
Jonah stiffens. “Since when?”
“Since…a while.” You gesture vaguely between the two of you. “We barely talk anymore.”
The honesty in your voice makes his chest ache. Because he knows exactly how much distance grew there. And for once he’s tired of lying about it.
Jonah slows to a stop near the gym doors. You stop too, the music behind the gym walls pulses faintly. He rubs the back of his neck once, then drops his hand.
“I owe you an apology,” he says.
“I’ve been avoiding you.”
“You don’t have to apologize for being busy-”
“No.” Jonah shakes his head. “Not that.”
Silence hangs between you. Jonah looks down briefly before forcing himself to meet your eyes again.
“I got in my head,” he admits. “And instead of talking to you about it, I just…let things get weird.”
You study him carefully. “Why?”
Jonah feels the truth rise instantly; ‘seeing you with her hurts more than it should.’
“Because I felt left behind,” he says instead. “And because I didn’t know how to deal with that without sounding pathetic.”
You frown immediately. “That’s not pathetic.”
Then Jonah exhales slowly. “There’s something else too.”
Your expression shifts slightly. Concerned now. “What is it?”
Jonah hesitates. Noah’s warning echoes in his head. ‘If this blows up, don’t say I didn’t warn you.’
But then he thinks about Heather in that classroom. The things she said. The way she twisted everything until he started doubting his own thoughts.
‘You deserve better than half-truths.’
“You remember what Heather told you about Noah?”
Your shoulders tense a little. “Yeah.”
“That he freaked out after she rejected him.”
Jonah looks away for a second. “That’s not the full story.”
The air changes immediately.
Jonah exhales sharply through his nose.
“I mean Heather left parts out.”
Your face tightens slightly. Defensive already. “She wouldn’t lie about that.”
“She didn’t lie,” Jonah says carefully. “Not completely.”
“She told people Noah got angry after she turned him down,” Jonah continues. “Which-yeah, he did. But not like she made it sound.”
Jonah presses on before he loses his nerve. “She embarrassed him. Publicly. Kept messing with him after. And when people started making fun of him for it, she leaned into it because it made her look better.”
Your brow furrows. “That doesn’t sound like her.”
Jonah almost laughs at that. “You didn’t know her freshman year,” he says quietly. The words land harder than he means them to.
You cross your arms slightly. “Why are you telling me this now?”
“Because I should’ve said something earlier.”
“And because Noah’s not the kind of person she made him out to be.”
You stare at him. Conflicted.
“She’s been trying really hard to keep you away from people,” Jonah says more softly now. “From me. From him.”
“Do you really think all of this just happened naturally?”
Silence. You look away first and Jonah immediately regrets how harsh that sounded.
“I’m not saying she doesn’t care about you,” he says quickly. “I think she does. A lot.”
“But I think…” He struggles for the wording. “I think she’s scared of losing you. Anyone would be.”
You don’t answer. The hallway feels colder now. “Why didn’t you just tell me?”
Jonah’s chest tightens. The real answer is ugly. Part of him was jealous because part of him liked being needed by you and panicked when that changed because admitting any of this means admitting far more than he’s ready to say out loud.
So instead, he gives you the simplest truth he has.
“I didn’t want to lose you either.”
I barely notice the music anymore. The formal is nothing but a blur of flashing lights while I'm making my way through the crowd toward the bathrooms.
The conversation with you keeps replaying. The look in your eyes, the uncertainty I saw. It was almost too much. The bathroom door swings shut behind me and for a few precious moments, she's alone.
I can do nothing but grip the edge of the sink and stares at myself in the mirror.
'Perfect hair. Perfect makeup. Perfect dress. Perfect lie.'
The reflection suddenly feels ugly.
'I didn't mean for it to get this bad.'
The thought slips through before she can stop it.
At first she just wanted to keep you close. Then she wanted to make sure nobody hurt you, then she wanted to make sure nobody took you away.
Somewhere along the way those things stopped being different.
My eyes squeeze shut. The image of Jonah and you walking together flashes through my head. Then Noah. Then the way you'd looked when you mentioned having nobody else to spend time with before coming to the house.
My stomach twists. "God..."
The bathroom door opens. My body reacts on instinct and straightens. And freezes.
He stands in the doorway for a moment. The silence feels heavier than any argument we’ve ever had.
Then he steps inside. "Fancy seeing you here."
My eyes roll automatically. The responses come from habit. "What are you doing here?"
"This bathroom is unisex, Heather. Honestly, it's a very stupid choice from the school but...anything to keep budget I gues-"
"What do you want, Noah?"
Then he laughs. He actually laughs.
He leans against the wall. "Yeah. Because that's exactly what I was gonna ask you."
'I can't deal with this right now.' I try to walk past him, but he blocks me. For the first time in years, he has the advantage.
"Y'know, you've got some nerve."
"What are you talking about?"
"Oh, don't do that." His voice hardens. "Not tonight."
That unpleasant thing crawl back into my chest. Noah shakes his head. "You lied to him and you lied about me."
"He knows what happened."
"No." He steps closer. "He knows your version."
I open my mouth, nothing comes out. Noah notices immediately, the anger on his face falters. He probably expected her to come out. Not...this. She usually looks confident; instead now she just looks...tired, guilty, small.
For a second neither of us know what to do with that.
Then he exhales. "You turned him against me. You pushed Jonah away."
The silence becomes its own confession, he stares realizing something new. 'She knows. She knows exactly what she's done.' And that's somehow worse. Because if she knew, that means she chose it.
My eyes burn. The pressure behind them feels unbearable. 'I hate this. I hate him, I hate her, I hate myself.' But most of all I hate that he's right.
The first crack finally appears. It's tiny. I feel my shoulders sag, my eyes glistening. Noah sees it and his anger evaporates almost as fast as the crack appeared; he expected a fight. Not this.
The words barely exist, Noah almost doesn't hear them. "What?"
The apology sounds pathetic and incomplete. Because it is, we're both at a loss for words right now. Before either of us can say anything movement catches my eye, I look through the doorway and my heart immediately stops.
You. Walking beside Jonah. Talking. Actually talking. The way you used to. The way she'd spent months making sure you didn't.
The guilt vanishes, replaced by panic. Pure instinct. I immediately wipe at my eyes.
Noah turns, sees you too and suddenly understands exactly what's happening.
But she's already moving. Fast. Not away from the conversation. Toward you. Toward the person she cares about most.
The person she's terrified of losing.
That brief spark of relief almost makes me cry.
'You're here. You're okay. Everything can still be fixed.'
I practically shove my way through the crowd. Someone calls after me, I ignore them.
The music pounds against my ears as I hurry toward you and Jonah. Toward the problem, the disaster, and all the consequences that would've followed.
You both turn when I finally reach you.
You're smiling, not a big one, not even a particularly happy one. But it's there. For a moment I realize how long it's been since I've seen you smile at Jonah.
The realization makes my stomach drop.
I can't breathe, my chest feels too tight.
I look at you, then Jonah, then back to you and suddenly every prepared excuse sounds pathetic. Every justification sounds ugly, any defense sounds like a lie because they are.
'God. Not now. Not in front of him. Not in front of you.'
"I need to tell you something."
Your expression changes immediately. "What happened?"
I shake my head. "No, nothing happened." 'Everything happened.' The words spill out before I can stop them.
Silence. Your face falls and I hate myself for causing it.
"What do you mean?" you ask gently.
I glance toward Jonah; he's watching me carefully, not with anger, just sadness, which somehow feels worse.
"I didn't tell you everything."
The confession comes out in pieces. I tell you about Noah, about the rejection, about the things I left out, about how I let you believe the version that made me look better.
I don't tell you every detail. Not because I'm hiding them but saying them out loud would make me sound exactly like what I've become.
Manipulative. Possessive. Selfish.
Your eyes never leave mine and that hurts more than if you yelled.
"I was trying to protect you."
"I didn't want people to hurt you."
"Because I care about you!"
The more I talk, the worse it sounds. Every confession leads to another lie. And eventually...
I immediately fall silent.
Your voice isn't angry. If you were, I could work with it, I know how to handle angry. But disappointment? Disappointment is lethal.
You rub your face; trying to think, to process, trying to figure out which parts of the last two and half years were real and which parts weren't. I know exactly what you're wondering. Because I'm wondering it too.
You close your eyes. "I know."
"No." My eyes are burning. "No, don't. You don't get to defend me."
'Please. Not that, anything but that.'
"I just...don't know what to believe right now."
Your voice remains gentle even now. God. I almost wish you hated me.
The tears are there now, I can feel them.
"I just don't know if I can trust them."
The world stops. Everything else disappears. Just those words. 'I don't know if I can trust you.' Trust was the one thing I always thought I had.
You swallow. "We're not over."
My chest rises with hope. Desperate, pathetic hope.
I feel myself nodding before I even realize it, like my body has given up fighting. You look heartbroken, I want to fix that. You turn to Jonah.
Everything inside me shatters.
The person I spent months pulling you away from, who I convinced myself was the threat is now standing beside you now while I'm standing here alone.
Jonah looks shocked, then concerned, then guilty. "Yeah," he says quietly. "Of course."
I almost start crying right there. You look back at me.
"I'll call an Uber for you."
Your words are kind. Exactly the sort of thing you would say. Yet they feel like a death sentence. Because you aren't choosing me first.
For one awful second, I think you're going to hug me. You don't. You simply give me a sad smile.
Then you leave. With Jonah. Together.
And I stand there watching until both of you disappear around the corner. The hallway feels empty. My chest feels hollow and for the first time since I met you; I understand exactly what Noah felt when I lied to you.
Watching someone walk away while knowing you only have yourself to blame.
a/n: Sooooooo….I might’ve fibbed a little. If I’m being honest, I got hit by a major case of burnout and stopped like midway through Chapter 9 and it isn’t fair to keep the finished chapters from you guys with all the support y’all have given me. I cannot promise that the rest will come out on time, but I can promise to work as hard as I can to get them out to you. Hope you enjoy this chapter!
