Chapter 5 The one with the bad timing
Although they hadn’t been friends for long, Dylan had done more for Jared than those he thought he could trust with his life. The daily homemade meals, the beers on Fridays he never skipped even if he had to work the next day, the stupid memes he sent just to make him laugh...
What he didn’t see coming, not even in his wildest dreams, was that after a few stormy weeks, they would be here, moving in together.
He couldn’t pretend part of him wasn’t scared of this new adventure—cohabitating could fuck things up—but he really didn’t have many other options.
Though, at this moment, anything was better than having to choose between eating or sleeping with a roof over his head. He didn’t have enough money for both.
“Thanks again, man,” Jared said with a grateful smile as he entered Dylan’s apartment. “I don’t know how I’ll repay you for this.”
“Shut up,” he countered, closing the door behind him.
Jared wasn’t new to this place, but Dylan still offered a small tour, making him feel all cozy inside. The way he treated and talked to him, as if he wasn’t just a guest, warmed his heart. He really needed this—a shelter, a place where he could crash and lick his wounds until he was feeling better.
Romantic relationships shouldn’t take up our entire lives.
But sometimes, when you’ve shared all of your dreams with one person, waking up to the painful reality of the end is too much to deal with in solitude.
And sure, Dylan could be a little cranky some days, but he was also the best person to have beside you, helping pick up the pieces of your broken self.
Half an hour later, Jared’s clothes were unpacked and all his toiletries were set up in the bathroom.
He sucked in a deep breath and stared at himself in the mirror. Somehow, the grey vintage patterned shower tiles behind him and the bright white light accentuated his exhaustion, the dark circles under his eyes almost matching the purple of his hoodie.
This shouldn’t be happening. He shouldn’t be looking like a dead man walking. Why couldn’t Paul keep it in his pants?
With his knuckles turning white as his hands tightened on the edge of the sink, he mentally hyped himself for the task he had to handle next: going to his old place to get the rest of his stuff. If Paul hadn’t already donated, burned, or thrown everything out the window, that is.
Jared didn’t like the idea of stepping into that house ever again, but he had to do this. Hoped it would feel like turning the page on this awful chapter of his life, or maybe like closing a book to pick up a new one. He needed to heal.
They say there are five stages of grief after a breakup, but he couldn’t see how he would ever reach the bargaining one. Trying to patch up the rotten love or rebuild the friendship? Bullshit.
Some would say he was still too angry, that everyone goes through it no matter how much you try to avoid it.
But he couldn’t see that happening. If things had been different, and Paul hadn’t betrayed him, he perhaps would have tried the friendship route.
But betrayal was something he would not accept or forgive.
Hell no. Once the trust was broken, there was no turning back from that.
A knock on the door startled him.
“You ready?” Dylan asked.
Jared frowned at his reflection, releasing a heavy sigh before walking out of the bathroom. “Are you sure about this? You really don’t need to come.”
“I said I’ll help you, and if that means going to grab your stuff, I’ll go,” Dylan replied. “Besides, you’ll probably need a shield against his sorcery.” He wiggled his fingers in front of his face like he was casting a spell.
Jared snorted. “Let’s go.”
The atmosphere in the car was relaxed, with small talk and laughter filling the space.
They talked about their plans for the next weekend, since this one was already packed with boxing and unboxing Jared’s crap.
No one would say they were two grown-ass adults if they heard them excitedly talking about the upcoming video game convention. Who the fuck cared though? Not Jared.
It had been a month since he’d broken up with Paul, and he would be lying if he said it hadn’t been a rough one.
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 he was 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.
He had let that thought roll off his tongue several times when they were still together. He’d claimed that the way Jared talked about Dylan sounded like he wanted him.
At first, Jared wasn’t sure why he was so drawn towards him.
He just felt comfortable around Dylan and blamed Paul’s fears on his lack of self-esteem.
Turns out, this time, he was right. But Jared would have fucking never let his dick’s desires get in between the two of them. No matter how much he craved it.
Apparently, Paul didn’t feel the same.
Anger flared through his veins, but not wanting to make the situation worse, Jared didn’t retort to what was clearly a provocation.