Chapter Fourteen Damaged Beyond Repair
Chapter Fourteen
Damaged Beyond Repair
I
move swiftly, every sound suddenly feeling magnified—the creak of the floor under my toes, the hum of the air vent, even cars passing outside my window. But my pulse drowns it all out the second I snatch his phone off the dresser.
The screen lights up in my shaky hand, and my fingers type in his password before my brain catches up. Of course I remember it. Part of me loves that—another part hates that I held onto it for a just in case moment.
And now here I am, living the exact moment I never wanted.
I go straight for his messages. My stomach twists as I skim past the usual suspects—work buddies, cousins, even my own thread—until my eyes land on a name that makes my entire body numb.
Rebecca.
Of course it’s Miss Shots-All-Around. The same bitch who hangs around us every weekend, cheesing in my face while apparently auditioning to be his side piece. My fingers tremble, tightening around the phone as I force myself to open the thread.
And there it is. My man—my fucking man—right in my face, entertaining this bitch like she’s worth his time. And the worst part is he’s not even shutting her down. The way his messages bounce back makes it obvious he’s been wanting her. He’s not just thinking about it—he’s fucking doing it.
My blood runs hot, damn near blistering as I keep scrolling. This is the confirmation I thought I needed—but staring at it now feels toxic. My heart tightens, twisting in on itself, going colder and darker with every line I read.
The shower hums in the background, but I’m too full of heat to hear anything else. Boiling hot lava pulses through me while their messages stain the screen, scalding me with every line.
Jacob: “You looked so good the other night, I couldn’t even focus.”
Her: “Lol stop, you’re gonna get in trouble.”
Jacob: “You like it though—don’t lie. And you know I don’t mind the trouble for you.”
Her: “Such a troublemaker. You’re lucky you’re sexy.”
My stomach turns so much I feel like I’m going to puke, but I keep scrolling.
Jacob: “Since I’m so sexy, when are we sneaking off again? Last time wasn’t long enough for me, I need to see you again.”
Her: “Careful pretty boy… or your girl’s gonna think something’s up.”
Jacob: “Only if you tell her. And you won’t, so don’t worry about her.”
The phone trembles against my palm as I squeeze harder, my breathing pissed and uneven. I want to throw his fucking phone, stomp on it, destroy every word on this fucking screen. But the proof is in my face—clear as day—and I’m pissed it even manages to shock me.
I fucking knew it. Maybe that stupid voice in my head isn’t so stupid after all.
He just fucked me—while the whole time he’s been sneaking around with Rebecca. And it’s not even the cheating that slices me open. It’s the humiliation. Realizing he thinks so little of me that I’ll never find out.
I want to stop—I swear I do—but my fingers don’t listen. They keep scrolling, pouring gasoline on the fire eating me alive.
Her: “So Monday? You know I’ll be off work by 6.”
Jacob: “Bet. I can’t wait to see your sexy ass—wear that white mini skirt I like.”
And just like that, my chest folds. My heart doesn’t just hurt—it twists, darkens, turning into something I barely recognize.
The shower water almost covers the sound of my heartbeat trying to break out of my chest—but it can’t mute the truth hitting me.
He’s planning to see her? Tonight? No fucking way he thinks he can fuck me, wash me off and go entertain her.
My gut called this days ago—I just refused to listen. Because stupid me wanted to believe in our fairytale so bad. But fairytales aren’t built on lies and they sure as hell don’t come with cheaters and side chicks.
My vision blurs with tears that claw at the eyes, begging to fall, but I hold them back until it physically hurts. It feels like my whole world just collapsed in on itself, the tiny bit of sanity I rebuilt cracking straight down the middle.
He’s not mine anymore. And probably he hasn’t been for a while now.
I drag my eyes over the glowing screen one last time, pulse pounding so loud it shakes my thoughts. I want to keep going, to read every last message until I can’t feel anything anymore.
But I can’t.
Not with him in the next room, waiting for me stop into the shower like the clueless girlfriend who still trusts him.
My fingers quake as I place his phone on the dresser in the exact same spot—like I didn’t just rip open every lie he’s been hiding for god knows how long. I pull in a slow breath, smooth out my face, and push the screaming in my chest back down.
Because this truth is I’m not ready—not yet anyways. I need time.
Time to figure out if I’m about to set the whole world on fire or swallow this like it won’t choke me later.
But if he’s already sneaking around while still fucking me like I’m replaceable, then this relationship ended long before today.
I peel myself off the bed, my weak legs feel heavy, but still carry me. Each step toward the bathroom feels like I’m walking into a war zone—and even though I said I was dressed for war, I didn’t think it would come to this.
I push the door open, and the steam rolls over me—soft, thick, curling around me like it knows I need the cover. The moment I walk in, he peaks from behind the curtain with his stupid smile like the world isn’t burning down.
“Took you long enough, get in here,” he says, water glistening on his golden skin like he’s in some cologne ad.
I force a smile back, stepping into the warm water. On the outside, I look like the girlfriend climbing into the shower after getting dicked down. But on the inside, I’m duct-taping cracks of my heart, all while trying not to explode from the shit I just read.
He drags me into his chest, and the only thing screaming in my head is, don’t fucking touch me… not when your hands were on her like I’m not enough.
The water beats down on my shoulders, scaling, trying to melt the truth from my skin. His hand slides down my back—soft, sweet—like his phone didn’t just tell me like Rebecca isn’t already in position, waiting for him the moment he leaves here.
I tilt my head up, letting him kiss me while steam wraps around us, but nothing can blur her name from my mind. The messages flicker behind my eyelids, each one chiseling another crack in my heart.
Wrapping my arms around him, I press my cheek to his chest, listening to the heartbeat I’ve memorized—the sound that used to calm me.
But now it just reminds me that I’m listening to a heart that doesn’t belong to me anymore. A heart that clearly drifted elsewhere, while I was too busy loving him.
My fingers trace his forearm, pretending I’m being affectionate, but all I can think about is how these same arms held her in ways I’ll never know about.
My movements are out of habit, but my mind is spiraling.
Why her?
Why not me?
Why can’t I ever be enough for someone I love?
He kisses the top of my head, whispering, “I missed you.” And for a split second, I almost fall for it.
My chest fires up with everything I want to throw in his face, but deep down, I just want to know why I’m not enough for him. Why he has to chase another girl when I’m right here. Maybe it’ll give me some insight on why I’m not enough for anyone.
The urge to throw a bitch fit and kick him out my house—naked, dripping, humiliated—is damn near impossible to swallow. But somehow, I do.
I choke it down and whisper back, “I missed you too,” letting the water wash away the truth I can’t find the courage to say.
I need to get my head straight before I scorch this entire relationship with one sentence. I need to talk to Arina—she’s the only one who can talk me off the ledge… well, almost.
? ? ?
Getting dressed, he gathers his things like everything between us is perfectly fine. The normalcy of it almost hits harder than the shit I saw today.
“I gotta head out,” he shrugs. He doesn’t even notice I’m heartbroken. Normally he’ll be dragging me to bed by now, trying to decide what we’re eating before round two.
But not today. Not when he’s got other plans.
He really must think I’m that naive.
I force control in my voice, mirroring his casual tone. “Yeah… me too. I’ve got some stuff to do.” I watch his movements, each one slicing a little deeper.
The way he avoids specifics tells me everything—he thinks I’m too clueless, or too wrapped up in his dick, to see what’s right in front of me.
All I can think about is what they have planned tonight that’s worth after barely an hour.
Honestly, I’m glad he’s leaving—I need time to decide how to confront him without exploding.
After finding out about Rebecca, I don’t know if I would even be able to keep my face straight if he stayed.
I slip my clothes back on, pretending everything’s fine as we walk to the door. Like I didn’t just get proof he’s cheating on me. Letting him walk out feels like ripping my own heart open, but I bite that down too.
Outside, the sun dips low, coating everything in gold—funny how the world looks beautiful when I feel torn apart inside.
Next to his car, we lock eyes, a silent stare I can’t decode. His smile is soft and convincing. The kind of smile that could almost make me believe he still loves me.
Almost.
“See you later,” he feeds me, leaning in to kiss me before sliding into his seat.
“Yeah, later,” I answer, keeping my voice flat and refusing to meet his eyes.
My face is stone, but inside, my ribs are holding back words that feel like they’ll split me open any second now. Then he’s gone. The taillights fade, and with them goes every excuse I’ve ever made for him.
? ? ?
Back inside, with my heart on my sleeve, my walls finally crack. Tears, sadness, and anger slam into me in brutal waves, drowning me where I stand.
My eyes burn and my mind won’t stop spiraling—every lie, every excuse.
Maybe I really don’t mean anything to him anymore.
Maybe I’m just a quick fuck he checks off his list before going where he really wants to be.
What did I do wrong? The question loops in my head like a broken record, as if repeating it enough times will magically spit out an answer.
Everything was fine—until it wasn’t.
Until the seams ripped wide open. Until he started stuffing her into the cracks of our relationship like I’m fucking clutter that needs clearing.
But it isn’t fine. And now I see it, loud and painfully clear. The fear I’ve been shoving down for weeks comes crawling out with claws and a heartbeat, my name locked in its jaws. It drags itself up from the place I buried it just to tell me what I already know.
I love too much, and he never loved me enough. To him this was only a means to an end.
How is she suddenly more important than me when she doesn’t know a damn thing about the parts of him I’ve carried.
He made me feel like his everything. And I believed him. I stacked my life on top of that lie, built it high like it was safe. All for him to kick the foundation out like a bored little boy knocking down blocks.
And now I’m sitting here wondering how the hell I went from his obsession… to nothing.
This is what I’ve been afraid of since day one. That no matter what I give, no matter how hard I love, it’ll never be enough. And maybe that’s the sickest part, he’s already moved on, proving that I’m not enough. While I’m here, clutching broken pieces like they’re sacred.
The thing I dreaded most isn’t a shadow anymore—it’s here, in my face, laughing at me forever for thinking I’m an exception.
The house is too quiet as I walk down the hall. That kind of quiet that makes your own breathing sound too loud. Arina’s out on some date, chasing her next victim, and usually that kind of freedom feels like a blessing.
But tonight it feels like a curse.
No one’s here to drag me out of my head. No one’s here to remind me I’m not worthless.
I shut my door, locking it—like steel hinges and a wooden door are going to protect me from the mess inside my own head.
My white-and-gray sanctuary usually calms me, but right now, it just makes the mess in my life glow brighter.
Every perfectly lined bottle on my vanity feels like a joke—lined up neat while my life is scattered everywhere.
I sink onto my bed, clutching my pillow until my knuckles ache, and stare at the ceiling.
The tears hit without warning, hot and unforgiving, burning my throat raw as I choke down every sob.
I press my face into the pillow, drowning out the sound—because if I cry soft enough, maybe even these four walls won’t see how broken I’ve become.
Hours drag like chains, every second stretching too far, refusing to let me go. My chest stutters under the weight, each ragged breath scarping through me, carving me from the inside out.
And then Jacob’s stupid face flashes through my mind. That smile. Like he sculpted comfort out of thin air and handed it to me. Like he was the safest place I had. God, I could choke myself for how easily I fell for him.
And then Rebecca—them. His phone buzzing with secrets he thought he buried deep. The betrayal sticks in me like poison gum—gross and bitter, chewing through me piece by piece.
I scream into my pillow, cry until my lips taste like salt, but I still can’t spit it out.
It just sits there, heavier with every breath.
Somewhere past midnight, with my eyes swollen and my pillow soaked, the exhaustion finally wins.
I’m almost grateful for the emptiness. Grateful Arina isn’t home to see me like this—grateful nobody’s here to see me fall apart. Because come morning, I’ll have to tape myself back together, and pretend I’m not dying inside.