Chapter Fourteen
From: Headphone Guy
Myah, please pick up the phone. We’re worried about you.
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Myah had always thought rock bottom would feel dramatic.
She imagined screaming matches. Doors slamming.
Tears streaking down her face while rain poured from the sky as though the universe itself had decided to participate in her misery.
Instead, rock bottom felt quiet. It felt like staring at the ceiling for three hours because getting out of bed seemed impossible.
It felt like thirty-seven unread text messages.
It felt like her phone lighting up and immediately wishing it hadn't.
It felt like waking up disappointed she had woken up at all.
A week and three days. Ten days. Ten days since she'd sat across from Jace in his car and told him the truth. Ten days since she'd watched his face crumble. Ten days since she'd destroyed the best thing that had ever happened to her.
The apartment was dark despite it being nearly noon. The curtains remained shut. Laundry sat in piles around the bedroom floor. Empty energy drink cans crowded her nightstand.
The air felt stale. Everything felt stale.
Myah rolled onto her side and buried her face deeper into the blanket. She was exhausted. The kind of exhaustion that seeped into her bones and hollowed her out from the inside. She reached blindly for her phone and the screen lit up. No new messages.
Her stomach sank, because every single morning she checked.
And every single morning she hoped. Maybe today Jace would text her back.
Maybe today there would be something. Anything.
An angry message, a hateful message, a demand to leave him alone.
At least then she'd know he was still thinking about her. Instead there was nothing.
The silence was worse, it felt permanent. Her text thread with him sat pinned at the top of her messages. The last thing she'd sent was six days ago.
From: Myah
I'm sorry.
The message before that:
From Myah:
Please just tell me you're okay.
And before that:
From: Myah
I know you hate me, but I’m sorry.
No read receipt. No response.Nothing.
Myah swallowed around the lump in her throat.
Then she opened the thread anyway. Because apparently humiliation had become a hobby.
She reread every conversation. Every joke and stupid meme.
Every late-night message and flirtatious comment.
Every piece of evidence proving she'd somehow convinced someone like Jace to care about her.
A fresh wave of nausea rolled through her, because he hadn't deserved this. Not even a little. Jace had been kind and patient and safe. And she'd lied to him from the very beginning.
The self-loathing hit like a freight train. Of course he hated her. Of course he didn't answer. What kind of idiot had she been to think he would?
A bitter laugh escaped her. The sound echoed through the empty apartment. Pathetic.
She tossed her phone onto the mattress and dragged her hands over her face. Everything hurt. Every thought felt sharp. Every memory felt poisonous. And the worst part was that her brain wouldn't stop. It never stopped. The second she opened her eyes each morning it began.
You're awful.
You're manipulative.
You're disgusting.
You ruin everything.
Nobody stays.
Nobody should stay.
Her therapist had once explained the spiral as black-and-white thinking.
Emotional permanence. Catastrophizing. She could practically hear the clinical terms rattling around her head.
Knowing what was happening didn't stop it, It just meant she got to watch herself drown while understanding exactly why.
The phone buzzed and Myah grabbed it instantly. Hope exploded in her chest and then immediately died.
Ellis. Again.
She stared at the notification.
From: Headphone Guy
Checking in. You alive?
The text had arrived twenty minutes earlier. There were four others beneath it.
From: Headphone Guy:
You missed work again? Issaky said you weren't at the stand this morning.
And another.
From: Headphone Guy
Call me, please.
She didn't know why Ellis cared so much, and she didn't know whether to feel happy or annoyed by it.
From: Headphone Guy
Myah, seriously, answer your damn phone.
Her thumb hovered over the screen but she couldn't do it. Couldn't explain this. Couldn't listen to him tell her things would be okay. Because they weren't okay. They weren't even close. Jace was gone. And somehow losing him had ripped open every wound she'd spent years trying to stitch together.
Abandonment.
Rejection.
Worthlessness.
Every ugly thing she believed about herself had suddenly become true. She set the phone back down. Then immediately hated herself for that too. Because Ellis was trying, and she was failing him, just like she'd failed everyone else.
A knock sounded at the apartment door and Myah froze. She waited a moment, half convinced it wasn't at her door. Then another knock happened. Her stomach twisted.
"Myah." Ellis said from the hallway. Of course.
She squeezed her eyes shut. Maybe if she stayed quiet—
"Myah, I know you're home."
Damn it.
The knocking continued. Steady and persistent like Ellis himself. Eventually she dragged herself from bed, recognizing how the movement felt exhausting. Every step toward the door felt heavier than the last.
When she opened it, Ellis immediately frowned. "Oh."
She hated that look. The concerned one. The one people got when they realized she was worse than she'd admitted.
His eyes swept over her in her oversized sweatshirt, tangled hair, and no doubt dark circles.
"You look like shit."
"Thanks."
"I'm serious." Ellis sighed, then pushed past her into the apartment. "Myah."
"What?"
"You haven't answered me in days."
She shrugged. "I didn't feel like talking."
"You haven't gone to work." Another shrug. "Didn't feel like that either."
Ellis turned toward her and for a moment neither of them spoke. Then he said quietly, "You need to stop doing this."
Something sharp flared inside her. Anger maybe? Defensiveness? Shame? The holy trinity.
"Doing what?" She sneered.
"Hiding."
"I'm not hiding."
"Myah." Ellis almost whined.
She laughed, a harsh sound. "You want me to go pretend everything's fine?"
"No."
"You want me to smile at customers and make lattes and act like I didn't completely destroy someone's life?"
"You didn't destroy his life." Ellis tried, stepping closer.
The words exploded out of her. "I DESTROYED EVERYTHING!"
The apartment fell silent. Her chest heaved as tears burned behind her eyes.
Ellis didn't flinch and that somehow made it worse. Because Jace would have flinched. Ten days ago Jace would've looked concerned. He would've stepped closer and asked if she was okay.
Tears slipped free. "Damn it." She wiped at them furiously, but more appeared. "I hate this."
Ellis nodded. "I know."
"I hate me." The words slipped out before she could stop them.
His expression tightened. "Myah."
"I do." She laughed shakily, "You know what's funny?"
"What's that?" Ellis asked softly.
"I finally did the right thing." Her voice cracked. "I told him. He deserved the truth and I gave it to him and somehow it still ruined everything."
The grief hit all over again. It felt raw and violent. Because part of her had believed honesty would fix things for once. Instead she'd watched Jace's heart break in real time. And then she'd lost him anyway.
Ellis moved closer. "Myah I don't think it’s as bad as you think it is."
"He won't answer me."
"I know."
The words shattered something inside her. Because hearing someone else say it made it real. Jace wasn't taking space. He wasn't busy, or processing things. He simply wasn't answering.
The tears became impossible to stop. "He hates me."
"I don't know if that's true." Ellis sighed, rubbing the back of his neck. The poor guy was clearly uncomfortable with this much emotion.
"It is." Myah nodded, wrapping her arms around herself.
"You don't know that." Ellis smiled slightly. Myah thought it was supposed to be reassuring.
"He should." Her voice dropped, "He should hate me."
Ellis was quiet for several seconds. Then he said, "Maybe he's just hurt."
The distinction didn't matter. Not really. Hurt people left too, the result was the same.
She walked over and sank onto the couch., somehow more exhausted than before. Ellis sat beside her and for several minutes neither spoke.
Eventually Myah whispered, "I keep thinking about him."
A sad smile crossed Ellis's face. "Yeah?"
"Everything reminds me of him."
The japanese record she'd bought from High Tides.
The smell of weed. The hoodie he'd left in her apartment. The stupid sunglasses he’d worn that day at the mall.
The coffee order she knew by heart. The way he'd laugh whenever she said something ridiculous.
Everywhere she looked there was evidence he'd existed. Evidence she'd ruined it.
Fresh tears rolled down her cheeks as Ellis wrapped an arm around her shoulders. She didn't pull away for once.
"Do you think he'll ever talk to me again?" The question came out small and fragile.
Ellis was silent for a long time. Long enough for dread to settle in her stomach. Finally he sighed. "I think so."
Myah nodded slowly. Then rested her head against his shoulder. For several minutes she cried quiet tears that refused to stop. It was strange having Ellis there, she’d never really had a friend like him before.
The afternoon passed slowly and Ellis eventually convinced her to eat takeout. She hated to admit how nice it’s been to feel normal for a little bit.
By evening he finally left and when he did, the apartment became quiet again. The silence settled around her like a blanket, heavy and suffocating.
Myah sat alone on the couch, phone in hand, Jace's contact open. She stared at it for nearly ten minutes. Then typed.
I miss you. She deleted it.
Typed again.
I'm sorry. Deleted.
Again.
I love— Her breath caught. The words sat there. Bright and terrible as she stared at them, then quickly erased them. Because it didn't matter if she loved him or not, it didn't change anything.
Outside, the sun disappeared beyond the horizon.
Darkness crept through the room but Myah didn't bother turning on the lights.
She simply sat there, alone and heartbroken.
For the first time in years she couldn't imagine a future version of herself.
Couldn't picture next week. Next month. Next year.
Every path in front of her felt blank. The only thing she knew for certain was that tomorrow morning she'd wake up and reach for her phone and she'd hope to see a message from Jace.
And when there wasn't one, she'd have to survive another day without him.
Right now, that felt impossible. But tomorrow would come anyway. It always did. And somewhere beneath the grief, buried beneath the shame and self-loathing and heartbreak, there was a tiny stubborn piece of her that still wanted to keep going.
She realized she wasn't grieving only the loss of Jace. She was grieving the version of herself she'd become when he loved her. And that loss hurt almost as much.