Chapter Sixteen Over It
Chapter Sixteen
Over It
T
he next few days smear together, one long loop I can’t break. I clean like it’s the only thing holding me together—counters gleaming, the garage reorganized, again. I’m scrubbing so much I swear I can taste bleach in my mouth—and trust me, it does not taste good.
And the second I stop, I’m firing off job applications in bulk.
Most of them I don’t want. I just need something that proves my whole life isn’t falling apart.
Arina tries to drag me out every day, and every day I tell her no. I’m not built for outside right now. Not until I end things with Jacob. And honestly the thought of pretending I’m okay in public makes my skin crawl.
I need closure first… or at least whatever version of closure doesn’t completely destroy me.
Every night I crash into bed, tired in my bones but unable to stop checking my phone, hoping for something real—some sign he still cares. But it never shows up. Instead, the screen stays dark, mocking me for waiting on a boy who’s damn near already gone.
I tell myself I won’t look tomorrow, that I’m done giving him the power to hurt me. But every night, my stupid heart still reaches for a version of him that doesn’t exist anymore.
It’s Saturday evening, and I hear the hum of his car pulling into the driveway. My lunch shoots up my throat, I’m two seconds away from throwing up.
Amazing how a California roll can taste like heaven going down and straight-up betrayal on the way back up.
Some days we don’t talk, and when we do, it’s not even a real conversation—so when he knocks, I almost don’t answer. I want to leave his ass standing out there, let him feel even a piece of the emptiness he’s been putting me through.
But my body betrays me.
My legs carry me to the door, my chest flutters like I’m excited—though I know this is the day I have to let him go.
I can’t keep living in this cycle. It’s only been a couple weeks, but feeling like this is already too much for me. He’s cheating, sneaking around and lying to my face like my feelings are optional. And then he has the nerve to drift away, acting like he’s not the one who blew everything up.
Loving someone who gives the best parts of themselves to someone else is a special king of hell—one I can’t survive.
The boy who once felt like home, is standing on my porch with that half-smile that used to calm me.
But it doesn’t work this time.
I see the bags under his brown eyes, the faint smell of weed clinging to him, laced with someone’s perfume he thinks I probably don’t notice. The word chill is stamped across his grey tee, paired with black shorts, and his blue-and-white Dunks.
Inside, I curl myself up on one end of the couch, needing the distance to try to breathe properly. He sprawls out across the other end, casual, not knowing this is a funeral for us. The silence sits between us, heavy as concrete. He scrolls his phone a couple times before stuffing it in his pocket.
Finally, he broke the silence. “So… what’s up Jaine? You’ve been distant this week.”
A bitter laugh escapes me, sharp at the edges. “I’ve been distant? That’s real cute Jacob. I could fall off the face of the earth and the best you’ll manage is a dry good morning text days later.”
His eyes narrow. “You’re tripping, Jainey. I just been working and shit. You know that. And I have been texting you—making sure you’re okay.”
Tripping. That word slices through me like glass. Like my feelings are some bad habit I should kick. The crack between us splits wider, right here in the middle of my living room.
My chest tightens, voice shaking no matter how hard I try to hold it steady. “Working? Or partying and fucking Rebecca? And don’t fucking play dumb with me. I went through your phone last time you were here. I saw everything.”
His face freezes—half a second, but enough. Enough to confirm what I already know.
“Why the fuck are you going through my shit? I thought we trusted each other? She doesn’t mean anything, man, I swear. If you’d just asked me instead of playing detective, maybe I could’ve explained. But instead, you’re just assuming shit.”
The truth’s out.
He’s been with her. I can fill in the rest based off of his messages that are stored in my brain. My throat burns, but I steel myself. I refuse to cry—he doesn’t deserve that anymore.
“Ask you? So you can lie to my face like you’re doing right now? I’m sick of it, Jacob. You fucked me and went straight to her after, didn’t you? Just tell me. Please. Just say it out loud.” I plead.
He exhales, jaw tight. “Fine, fuck. Yes. I went to her after I was with you that Monday, okay? Fuck, I’m sorry, Jainey.
But you know shit’s been off between us for a minute now…
I think I just need to do me. This relationship ain’t what it used to be, and I know you see it too.
I just don’t know if I want to try anymore. ”
The words gut me. How could he not want to try anymore. Like every promise, every I love you—means nothing. My eyes sting, tears building, but I blink them back hard. He will not have my tears.
Not now anyways.
“So um you’re leaving me for ugly-ass Rebecca? That’s hilarious. After everything we’ve been through, and you don’t even want to try? Fine. You got it, Jacob.” My voice cracks, but I point to the door anyway, every nerve in me shaking. “Just leave—get the fuck out.”
His jaw locks, eyes darting away before snapping back, full of something I can’t read—guilt, anger, maybe both.
“Fine. I’m out. Think whatever you want—just I told you what it is… but you have a good life, Jainey.”
He doesn’t even look back when he walks out the door. A part of me wants to scream his name, beg him to stay, to try for us, for me.
But I don’t move. I sit frozen, nails digging crescents into my palms, holding back tears until I hear the slam of the car door and the rumble of his engine fading out of the driveway.
Only then do I let myself breathe.
My chest aches like it’s been ripped wide open, but somewhere under all that pain… there’s a flicker of freedom. I steady my breathing, biting my lip until I taste copper.
When Arina comes home, she won’t see me broken. She’ll see me free, trying to move on. If Jacob thinks he left me crushed, he better think again.
Still, the truth stabs. I just lost the one person I trusted enough to love me. The boy who was once my oxygen just walked away like I not worth fighting for—hell, he actually said it too. I lean back on the couch, arms wrapped tight around myself, whispering into the empty room.
Don’t cry over him. Fuck him.
But the silence stretches, the night dragging, and no matter how hard I try, I feel myself splintering.
In my room, the walls feel too quiet, too empty.
My chest is heavy, my eyes burning, but I choke the tears down.
I pull my knees to my chest, hold myself tight, because no one else is here to do it.
I’m so tired—tired of letting people decide my worth. My mom. My so-called friends. And now him. Every time I hand over pieces of myself, they walk away with them. But not anymore.
Love isn’t supposed to feel like this, but tonight he showed me exactly where I stand. And I’m not what he wants anymore.
If I’m not enough for him, then fuck him. And fuck Rebecca too. I hope she does him the same way he did me.
Karma’s a bitch, and she’ll always get her turn.
? ? ?
It’s close to midnight when I hear Arina staggering inside. A second later she’s knocking on my door, voice high pitched and obviously drunk.
“I know you’re awake, Jainey!” She slurs, not waiting for a response before swinging the door open like always.
I’m half-naked, tucked under my blanket with Family Guy flickering on the TV. She staggers over and kicks off her heels with a dramatic groan, then drops onto the edge of my bed like this is her nightly routine.
“I’d ask how the breakup went, but judging by your face, I can already tell it wasn’t easy.” She slurs, her bright glassy blue eyes fluttering.
I disappear under the blankets a little more, releasing a long, tired sigh. “Girl he actually had the nerve to say we’ve changed—like that somehow makes it okay for him to go run off and fuck somebody else. Let alone someone we both know.”
Arina rolls her eyes. “Wow, how predictable. Guys swear they’re not simple, but they all run the same tired games—hooking up a mutual friend is so… typical.”
“And when I told him we were done and to get the hell out, he didn’t even argue. He just… stood there, like he’s been waiting for me to finally give up.”
“And then he hit me with a stupid have a good life. Like that’s suppose to make any of this hurt less. Like I didn’t spend years trying to be enough for him. Like seriously—that’s all I get?”
“Aww, babe…” she slurs, leaning forward like she wants to hug me but might fall in the process.
“Listen to me—he should’ve fought. He should’ve tried.
But he didn’t—hic—and that’s on him. Not you.
You’re worth more than that. You’re—hic—worth fighting for.
And he’s gonna regret it when he sobers up from his stupidity. ”
I nod, lips curving into something that barely qualifies as a smile. “You’re right. I had to walk away. Now I just need to be outside, and distracted. I swear, I’m about to build a whole lineup just to keep my mind from going back to him, even for a second.”
Arina groans, throwing herself back across the bed like she barely survived the night.
“Thank Goooood, my wing woman is back,” she slurs, flinging her arm over her forehead.
“Can I crash here? My room is—” she points at the mirror, totally wrong direction—“ wayyy over there, and I’m not dragging my ass all the way down that hallway. ”
I roll my eyes, laughing. “Is it really? Because I couldn’t sworn your room was on the other side of my door. But fine—you can stay. Just don’t scoot on my side and try any funny business.”
“I’m not thaaat drunk, she slurs, smirking. “You’re cute and all, but you not my type.”
We burst out laughing, until I can’t tell if we’re giggling or gasping for air.
“I love you, girl. Get some sleep,” I mumble, rolling over—only to see she’s already passed out cold, spread out like she owns the bed.