I stare at my reflection, my throat tightening as old memories creep in, uninvited and unwelcome.
When I found out Judd was cheating on me, I didn’t call a friend.
I called my mother.
God, I was so stupid.
I can still hear her voice—calm, measured, like she was discussing the weather instead of the fact that my heart had just been ripped out.
“He probably needed something different to keep his interest.”
Like it was reasonable.
Like it made sense.
Like it was… my responsibility.
“You should forgive him, Hadley. And maybe put a little more effort into your appearance.”
I squeeze my eyes shut for a second.
Yeah.
My mother said that.
And the worst part?
For half a second…
I believed her.
I stood there in my apartment in New York, holding my phone, feeling like everything inside me had just collapsed.
And I thought—maybe she’s right.
Maybe there is something wrong with me.
Something fundamental. Something unfixable.
Something that makes it impossible for anyone to stay.
Because who would choose this?
Who would choose me when there are easier options? Prettier options? Less complicated options?
My chest tightens, and I press my hand against the counter to steady myself.
But then I remember.
I left.
I left Judd.
I left the apartment.
I left the life that was slowly convincing me I was something to settle for instead of something to be chosen.
And I stopped answering my mother’s messages.
