Breakups are never easy. It doesn’t matter if you’ve only been dating for two weeks or an entire lifetime. Obviously, the longer you’re together, the harder the fall. You don’t stick around if you don’t love them, unless there’s some sort of sickening toxicity tying you together. And this one was no exception. It still hurt. The conflict. The confusion. The starting over. The untenable dreams and tattered memories.
However, the unconditional support he’d received from his friends in the city and back home during the last few weeks had restored Jared’s faith in humanity. Dylan offering him a place to stay, one that wasn’t decorated with spiderwebs and where he’d have someone to talk to on a daily basis had definitely boosted his mood too.
As they neared the old, converted house, tension filled the air and their lungs. Jared didn’t even need to ask Dylan how hewas feeling. His body language was easy to read—he was ready to fight, and Jared fucking loved that he was so protective.
Taking a deep breath, Jared opened the car door and stepped outside. Dylan followed suit, silently supporting him as they walked towards the front door.
The moment they entered, Jared saw Paul sitting on the sofa in the living room—the sofa he’d fucked their friend on. He was checking his phone, completely immersed in his own little world. But as if he had sensed the rage radiating from Jared, his head jerked in their direction.
“Jared,” he whispered, voice quivering with shock and sadness.
Jared sighed, running a hand through his hair as he stopped with a foot on the first step of the stairs. “We’re just here to pick up my stuff. We don’t want any trouble.”
Tears brimmed Paul’s eyes as he stood up, hesitantly approaching. “Please, can we talk? I miss you so much... I can’t believe this is really happening. It was a mistake.”
Jared wanted to laugh in his face. After being played, he didn’t believe one word that came out of Paul’s mouth. He now knew it had happened more than once with their friend, and for him, that was called recidivism, not a mistake.
“There’s nothing to talk about,” Jared deadpanned, sensing Dylan’s discomfort as much as his own when he shifted behind him. “You fucked up, and I need to leave this, us”—he flicked a finger between them—“behind and move on with my life.”
“But—”
He shook his head. “Don’t.”
Without letting him say another word, Jared made his way up the stairs. Frustration boiled inside him. He hated being like this, he really did. But how could he control his emotions when, after several weeks of not talking at all, he’d just faced the man who had severed their future?
He loathed this—in case it wasn’t obvious.
As soon as they stomped on the first floor, without missing a beat, he and Dylan went straight into what used to be his room. At least the fucker Paul was banging wasn’t here yet. Jared wasn’t a fan of punching stuff, but he would gladly smash that asshole’s face in right now.
Have friends, they said... That twatwaffle hadn’t even tried to contact him once to apologize or try to explain himself. Jared definitely didn’t need enemies with friends like that.
Fuck him. Fuck Paul. And fuck all their fuckery.
Wood sliding over wood was the only noise filling the room when Jared started opening the drawers and closet. This felt wrong. He didn’t live here anymore. But truly, he needed to get all his stuff and get the fuck out of here.
“Are you serious?” Paul’s angry tone boomed as he stood at the door. “If you didn’t want to talk or anything, why the hell didn’t you come when I wasn’t here? Even if my shifts are crazy, you know I only work in the mornings.”
Jared didn’t answer. He simply continued piling his clothes and the rest of his belongings on the bed.
The memories of what they used to be shattered one by one with each piece of duct tape Dylan ripped to build the boxes they had brought. It was painful to look back at everything he would never have again, but it still hurt less than the sense of not being enough.
Jared’s heart tripped as he fought back the tears.
“Answer me!” Paul’s voice raised, hitting a raw nerve.
“You’re not the center of the universe,” Jared spat without turning to look at him. “I just came when I could.”
“Jared, please... Stop, just stop for a moment.” A hand grabbed his forearm.
“Paul…” He gritted his teeth. “Leave me alone.”
“Why don’t you talk to me? I’ll do anything, anything you want me to do to fix this. Please…”
“Listen, I am not doing this with you. Not now. Not ever.” He glared at him. “I don’t care if you think I’m inflexible and rude, because when it comes to cheating, I fucking am. Leave me the fuck alone.”
“Is it because of him?” Paul barked, his gaze shifting to Dylan. “You’re with him now, aren’t you? Is that why you don’t want to work things out with me, mister perfect morality?”
Paul’s accusation hung heavy in the air.
