Chapter 15 Now #2
I laugh. “You just want to read more thirsty comments about yourself.”
“Can you blame me?”
“I’ve created a monster!”
He doesn’t reply right away, but I can hear the smile in his voice when he finally does. “See you next week, Ains.”
After we hang up, I debate getting out of bed and starting my day.
Winston, burrowed beneath the comforter with only his nose peeking out, clearly has other plans.
So instead of doing anything responsible, like showering, walking him, or writing, I do what any self-aware disaster in her mid-twenties would do.
I click back into Instagram and go full FBI mode. Camrynn with two n’s. This should be easy enough.
Right off the bat, I notice how different we are.
Cole’s always had a type, and—without sounding conceited—I was it.
Brown hair, brown eyes, under five six. I look like almost every girl that came before me.
But her? She’s tall. Maybe five nine. Long dirty-blond hair.
And, I hate to say it, beautiful blue eyes.
Her wardrobe is preppy in a way I’ve never been—colorful dresses, designer bags, tennis skirts that I know aren’t from Target.
She dresses like someone who owns matching luggage.
The kind of girl who has it together even when she doesn’t.
The complete opposite of me.
She loves working out. I know because she has an entire highlight full of mirror pictures in matching sets and videos of her spin classes.
Her body is toned in all the places mine never will be.
Not without giving up carbs and wine and the occasional Saturday morning croissant from the bakery down the street.
She’s the kind of girl you wish you could brush off but you can’t.
The kind of girl that makes you feel like your ex didn’t just move on; he leveled up.
I keep scrolling because now I’m in too deep.
It’s like passing a car wreck—you don’t want to see it, but you can’t look away.
I stop on a photo of her holding a puppy.
A goldendoodle named Bella. My heart hurts for Winston and then for me.
Does he ever think about the dog he wanted?
The one he picked out and paid for? The one he left with me like an afterthought?
I swipe again. A selfie. She posts a lot of them.
And now that I’m paying attention, I realize she posts more often than I ever did.
Toward the end of our relationship, Cole used to say the pressure of social media was too much—that’s why he hadn’t posted a picture of us in over a year.
Has he posted any of her? Does her feed exhaust him the way mine supposedly did?
I hate how much I care. I want to close out of the app. I want to unlearn her name, her face, her Instagram handle. I want her to block me in the same way Cole did. So then I can’t look. But I can, so I do.
I notice a picture with gold foil balloons that was posted in August. Twenty-two.
She’s twenty-two years old. Twenty-two is like a vision.
Twenty-two is the age I was when I met Cole.
Twenty-two is when my life felt like it was finally just starting.
I crave being twenty-two again more than I’d like to admit.
It’s funny though, because I’m sure from the outside looking in, my life seems so much better now than it was then, and in so many ways, it is.
But all this success still doesn’t change the fact that I come home to an empty apartment every day, my ex of three years replaced me in three months, and I’ve lost my best friends to my breakup.
So yeah, if I could go back to being twenty-two, I think I would.
Fueled by a cocktail of anger and adrenaline, I pick up Winston, grab my keys, and head straight to my car.
I need to get out. Out of my apartment, out of my head, out of this spiral I’ve slipped into.
But when I slide into the driver’s seat, I don’t turn the key.
I just sit there, Winston curled against me, phone clutched in my hand.
I scroll through my contacts aimlessly until Elizabeth’s hovers in front of me.
I’ve spent most of my life measuring myself against her, but underneath all the comparison, I’ve always looked up to her.
She’s the one I’ve always turned to when everything felt like it was slipping through my fingers, the person who could take my mess and make it feel a little less impossible. And right now, I need that.
She answers on the second ring. “Ains? Everything okay?”
The sound of her voice cracks something open in me. “Not really. Do you have a minute?”
“Of course. What’s going on?”
I tell her everything in one breath—the text in the group chat, the pictures, the girl with red nails and Cole’s arm around her, how it feels like watching my old life being played out without me.
There’s a pause, then Elizabeth says, “Ainsley, you do realize he’s not your life anymore, right? He gave that up when he walked away.”
Her words sting, sharp and matter-of-fact, and for a second, I want to hang up. “I know that,” I snap. “It doesn’t mean it doesn’t hurt.”
“I didn’t say it didn’t,” she says, her voice softening. “I just don’t want you forgetting who you are without him. You’ve built a whole career, friendships, a life that’s yours. And yeah, maybe it feels like he replaced you, but you’re not replaceable. Not to the people who matter.”
“Then why does it feel like I am?” I ask.
“Because heartbreak makes us forget our own worth,” she replies. “But you’ve always been stronger than you give yourself credit for. You just need to start believing it.”
Silence stretches between us, but not the bad kind—the kind where I know she’s still there.
“Do you ever feel like you just got it right on the first try?” I ask. “You and Ben make love look so easy.”
Elizabeth laughs softly. “Easy? No. Worth it? Yes. There’s a difference.”
“So what’s the difference? What do you have that I didn’t?”
She doesn’t hesitate. “Ben has always made me feel chosen. Every single day, even when we’re fighting, even when life is messy. It’s not about big gestures either. It’s the little things, like showing up, listening, and making space for each other.”
Her words hit harder than I expect. I think of Cole and all the ways I twisted myself into knots to make his absence look like presence.
Elizabeth keeps going. “I know that’s hard to hear.
But here’s something I’ve always admired about you—you know how to let people in.
Even when it doesn’t last forever, you’ve never been afraid to build real connections.
I’ve always envied that, because even when things fall apart, it means you had something worth missing. ”
Her words land heavier than I expect. “You really think that?”
“Yeah,” she says softly. “Ben’s amazing, but I’ve never had the kind of closeness you had with Savannah and Grace or even Lucas. And just because those friendships have shifted doesn’t mean they’re gone forever. It means you’re capable of that kind of connection again.”
I press the phone tighter to my ear, blinking hard. “Doesn’t feel like that right now.”
“Maybe not. But, Ains, that’s the thing Cole could never give you. That’s what he was missing. And one day, you’re going to see that wasn’t a loss—it was the point. You don’t need someone who makes you question whether you’re chosen. You need someone who proves it, over and over.”
I don’t know what to say, so I just sit there, Winston snoring softly in my lap, Elizabeth’s voice filling the silence I didn’t know how badly I needed.