Eventually, I pulled my hand from his and reached for my phone.
Thousands of notifications flooded the lock screen. Fans praising a version of me that barely existed.
The truth of me was exhausting.
Dieting. Pilates. Yoga. All the things I claimed I loved but really only tolerated—rituals meant to keep the illusion alive. The pretty, bendable, effortless girl they all thought I was.
Emma was the only person who ever saw the real version. The messy parts. The grit instead of glitter.
And Garrett.
He'd seen too much of me too.
His name sat at the very top—still marked as a "priority," even though I kept trying to delete that label from my heart.
Garrett: Thank you for the other night. You looked beautiful.
Garrett: I'd love to see you again.
Garrett: Please respond to me. I'm sorry.
Garrett: You're really going to ignore me after everything I've done for you?
And on. And on. And on.
I cleared them one by one.
Without thinking, I opened Pinterest—muscle memory guiding me straight to my wedding board.
Created: five years ago. Just a few months after we'd started dating. Last updated: two years ago.
That was when I finally gave up. When I tried convincing myself that what we had—dedication without commitment—was enough.
But it wasn't. Not for him.
There were always others.
Parties. Girls. "Friends" I never met.
I should have listened to Emma a long time ago.
She warned me. Told me I deserved better. Told me Garrett would break me if I kept handing him pieces he never asked for.
Maybe if I'd listened I wouldn't be sitting here in a dark hospital room, hurting over a man who never once chose me theway I chose him.
I closed Pinterest and opened Netflix.
The loading screen spun. One minute. Two. Three.
Nothing.
A bitter laugh slipped out.Of course even this wouldn't work today.
With a tired sigh, I closed the app and tossed my phone onto the bed beside Sebastian's unmoving body.
"Why am I like this?"
Only the monitors answered.
