None of this is remotely funny.
“You know what’s extreme?Stalkingis fucking extreme.”
For weeks now, Win has been following me around like a certifiable psycho. Everywhere I turn, he's there with this look on his face that softens the harsh definition of his features. It's beyond irritating and for some reason, my best friend finds ithilarious.
Fuck him. Fuck her. Fuck the universe for this cosmic joke.
I stomp up the stairs, the echo of my footfalls like a war march.
She sighs. “I’ll admit, he’s certainly not going about it subtly.”
“Aboutwhat?” I hiss, fumbling with my keys. I’m shaking with fury and gripping my phone so hard it’s about to shatter into a billion tiny pieces.
“About getting you back, you Neanderthal!”
A manic, sarcastic laugh erupts from me. “No, no, no, he’s trying to ruin my fuckinglife.”
She’s silent.
I barge into the apartment, kick off my shoes and throw my keys on the counter.
“I don’t fucking get him. He ghosted me and now what? He’s back to haunt my ass?”
She snorts. “Have you considered that maybe he regrets it?”
Nope. Not going there. I’m shaking my head even though she can’t see me. He doesn’t get to reappear under the guise of a dream when he’s only been a nightmare.
But he’s already crawled beneath my skin again. Had he ever really left? Lost grey eyes are forever imprinted behind mine. His voice whispers endlessly in my ears. Phantom strands of raven hair tangle between my fingers. He’s in every song with violins. Every aimless late-night walk. Every shy smile. I didn’t think it was possible to hate him or myself more.
Short, choppy breaths barely get me enough oxygen.
“Why now?” I choke.
Andrea blows out a long sigh; the speaker crackles.
“Why don’t you ask him?”
Iron fills my mouth. I’ve bitten my cheek to the point of bleeding.
She makes it sound so simple. Like I have the strength to look him in the face without drowning in memories.
“I can’t.”
Hiswords. They taste bitter on my tongue.
I don’t wait for her response before ending the call and chucking my phone at the couch. It bounces once— twice— tipping off the cushion and landing screen down on the rug. I stand for an eternity staring at it as I will myself not to deteriorate into dust.
Ask him?That’s Andrea’s genius solution? No. He doesn’t get the satisfaction of knowing my brutalized heart clings to the Win of my past.
I sink to the floor, back resting against the couch as I hug my knees to my chest. I’m a fucking idiot for thinking he would get fed up and leave me alone if he saw me out with another guy. Now everything is exponentially worse.
The only place I want to be is here with you.
A curious meow and the brush of soft fur against my thigh draw me out of a Win-shaped breakdown.
Barely.
“Mitz,” I groan, scooping up my overweight tabby cat. During my first semester at FMU, I noticed her lurking around my dorm, skinny as hell and covered in fleas. I took her in and she’s been with me ever since.
