"Don’t," I snap. "Don’t fucking turn this on me."
She tries to grab the phone again. "It was a mistake, okay? I was drunk—"
"Oh, I have been drunk too before, baby. Completely fucking wasted. And you know what I did? I spent twenty minutes trying to convince a cat to talk back to me. I poured water into a cereal box because I thought it was the milk. But what Ididn’tdo? I didn’t start texting your friends! And I definitely didn’t flirt with girls you can’t stand! I didn’t get so wasted that I magically 'forgot' what boundaries are. So don’t give me that 'I was drunk' shit.Because when I’m drunk, I’m still thinking about you. Still caring about you. So no, being drunk doesn’t mean a goddamn thing. Not to me."
I let out another hollow laugh. "God, is that why you kissed me earlier? To make yourself feel better? Or were you trying to cover your tracks? Because I feel disgusting now."
Her mouth opens, then closes. No words.
I want to scream at her.
I want to cry.
I want to disappear. "I believed you," I say, quieter now. "I really... fucking believed in us.That’syour impression of me? That was absolutely humiliating."
"You don’t understand—"
"The fuck you mean I don’t understand?!" I say. "I literally saw it. I’m not enough. Nothing willeverbe enough for you."
She finally rips the phone from my hand, her face flushed with shame and fury. "You had no right—"
"No right? You don’t get to talk about rights when you’re trying to screw around behind my back." I shake my head. My hands tremble.
I don’t even feel sad. Not really.
What I feel is anger. And not even at her. Mostly at me.
At the idiot version of myself with all these stupid, pretty little hopes lined up.
"This is so pathetic," I mutter. I look her straight in the eyes. "Obviously, this is over. You already embarrassed both of us enough by sexting someone who isn’t even straight."
Her face shifts, surprised, confused.
"Wait... he’s not straight?"
Oh my fucking God, this girl.
"That’s seriously your takeaway right now?" My voice cracks sharp, too raw. "I just told you I’m breaking up with you, and you’re asking if he’s straight?"
She stays frozen, not saying anything. I shake my head, already stepping back.
"Don’t come near me again. Not me, not Gio, not anyone in my circle. We’re done. Thankfully."
I’m furious. Furious at every moment I defended her like a loser.
Every time I made excuses. Every time I convinced myself the bare minimum is just her "style."
Furious at the way I soften myself just to fit around her sharp edges. Furious at how small I let myself feel.
Furious that I believed, even for a second, that I was enough for someone who never even tried.
I walk off. I feel like I can finally breathe away from her.
And all I hear is Gio’s voice again in my head.
But this time, he isn’t wrong. He’s right. And it hurts worse than anything.
I walk into the house with wet feet and a humbled soul. Loud music blasts from upstairs. Voices too. Laughing, talking over each other.
