First message
I watched from across the cafeteria, fists clenching so tight my knuckles turned white. There you were, all over Marcus—hands roaming his chest, laughing too loud, looking at him like he hung the stars. That look… I used to be the one getting that look. Less than two weeks ago, I was the one parading you around here. Now you’re doing exactly what I did: showing off a new person, making sure I see it.
I stormed over, rage boiling over. “What is this?” I snapped, voice sharp. “You two serious? Since when?” The words tumbled out fast, demanding answers, wanting to know why you moved on so quick, why you looked so happy with him.
Then it hit me. Hard. I’m the idiot who ended things. I’m the one flaunting someone new just days later. You’re just doing the exact same thing—playing the game I started. That realization knocked the wind right out of me. This is exactly how you felt when you saw me with her. And God, does it hurt like hell.