My throat swells.
"Jade?" Katrina's voice pulls me back. The light has changed. “Are you okay?"
"Yeah,” I rasp. "Fine."
But I'm not fine. I'm watching a stranger live the life I've been dreaming of, and all I can think about is Mila's hand pressed against her stomach, claiming a pregnancy that might not even exist.
‘I’m pregnant. With your baby.’
Ugh, I fucking hate her.
Katrina turns onto our street, and I see Devon's car already in the driveway. He's standing on the porch, waiting for me, his whole body tense.
"Call me later," Katrina says as I climb out. "I mean it. I don't care what time."
"I will."
Devon is down the steps before I reach them, pulling me into his arms with a desperation that tells me exactly how scared he's been. I let him hold me, breathing in the familiar scent of his cologne mixed with gym sweat, and I feel the tremor in his hands as they press against my back.
"I'm okay," I assure him.
"She’s crazy,” he breathes into my neck.
"I know."
He pulls back to look at my face, searching it for something. Maybe evidence that I'm falling apart.
But I'm not.
I should be. By all logic, I should be crumbling. Mila is stalking us. She's unraveling publicly and dragging us down with her. And yet.
"Let's go inside," I suggest, taking his hand. "We need to talk."
We sit in the kitchen, both silent and numb, processing the bullshit reality that surrounds us.
Devon sits across from me at the table, his shoulders hunched, watching me like I might fall apart.
"Tell me everything," I say. "From the beginning."
So, he does.
He describes Mila bursting through the gym doors, wild-eyed and frantic. The things she screamed about me—fat,pathetic,always was. The way she clawed at the air when security restrained her. How she claimed he ‘fucked her’ in New York.
I listen without interrupting.
“I think…” He shakes his head. “I think she’s doing all of this on purpose, Jade.”
“Maybe. Does it even matter at this point?” I take a deep breath. "She called me fat; it’s not new. She’s still the same old Mila.” I finally say.
Devon winces. "Jade?—"
"No, let me finish." I hold up my hand, and he goes quiet. "She called me fat and pathetic. And all the things she used to whisper in school when you weren't looking. Now she’s letting you see.”
His eyes narrow.
"And you know what?" I meet his eyes. "She's not wrong. About some of it."
"What are you?—"
