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“Casual?”Are you fucking kidding me?“Right, because ‘hey, let’s take things a little slow’ and ‘you’re allowed to fuck other people’ are completely the same thing! This is not an open relationship!”
The thing that makes me feel extra sick is that if he’d wanted an open relationship, I probably would have said yes. I wanted to take things slow and if he’d wanted to occasionally see other women, that would’ve been fine with me. But now, I’m just pissed. Because if he’s been cheating on me with this girl, what other stuff did he do behind my back?
“You’re such a skeezy asshole!” I snap. “How long have you been sneaking other girls into your bed?”
“This is the first time. I swear.” His eyes dart guiltily to one side as he says it, and I snort.
“Yeah, right. You’re a shitty liar.”
“Come on, babe,” he pleads, his voice taking on a new tone. “You know you can trust me. This was just one mistake. You know I care about you!” When he sees that his appeals aren’t working, he pouts a little. “And besides, how can you talk about not trusting me when I can’t even trust you! You don’t ever let me in and you don’t share anything about your life with me. I don’t even know where you live! And you’re getting mad at me?”
“You bet your ass I’m getting mad at you.” I can’t believe he’s actually trying to pull this bullshit with me and get me to blame myself for his cheating. “If you had problems in our relationship, you should’ve talked to me about them, you know, I hear that’s something that actual adults like to do.”
“Baby, come on—”
Jason reaches for me, but I smack his arm away, then slap him in the face. He reels back, my handprint blooming bright red on his cheek.
“You cheated on me!” I snap. “You fucking—I can’t believe this, you little worm. Did you really think I was so stupid that I wouldn’t find out? Or that you were so smart you’d be able to keep it from me? Going slow or being casual doesn’t equal an open fucking relationship. What the fuck?”
Jason can clearly tell that I’m ready to strangle him, so he wisely doesn’t try to say anything more. He sits down on the edge of the bed, and part of me is tempted to keep yelling at him, maybe smack him again, but instead I just start gathering up my things.It’s not worth it,I tell myself. He’s not worth it.
This is why you don’t trust anyone. This is why you don’t let people in. I didn’t even let Jason in as much as I could have. Oh my God, what if I’d told him about my fae nature? What if I’d told him what I really was? An idiot like that cheating on me and knowing that powerful, dangerous information about me? I’d be screwed.
“I’m done,” I say shortly, my voice turning hard. “This is over.”
“But, babe—”
“Don’t.” I cut him off. “Don’t waste any more empty apologies or excuses on me. And don’t call me. We’re finished.”
With that, I turn on my heel and storm out of the room. Thank fuck I don’t have a lot of stuff in his apartment. Tears burn in my eyes as I grab up my things—I don’t have a lot here, just some clothes and a toothbrush—trying to ignore Jason, who’s followed me out of the bedroom and is watching me.
He’s not worth it,I keep telling myself.He’s not worth it. He’s not worth it.
It still hurts.
Ever since my parents died, I haven’t let anyone in, but now that I’m in college, I thought… well, I figured maybe it was time to find people to have in my life. And Jason seemed nice and funny. He seemed like a great person to start with. To see what it was like to have someone else in my life besides myself.
Guess I was wrong.
Jason gets some ice for his face as if I punched him instead of just slapped him, glaring at me balefully as I finish stuffing my clothes and other knickknacks into my backpack. I’m lucky there’s extra room in the damn thing. I don’t think I’ve been this angry or hurt since I lost my parents.
Not that being cheated on is the same as having your loved ones die. But this is the first time I tried letting someone into my life, and now this is how I’m being rewarded. I feel like throwing up.
“You know,” Jason says, his voice accusing, “if you really cared about me, we would be able to talk this out and work through it.”
I’m literally on my knees so that I can stuff my shit into my backpack, and I just sigh. The temptation to bury my face in my hands is awful, but I don’t want to show any kind of weakness in front of Jason. Not after what he just did. He doesn’t deserve to see me vulnerable.
“Or,” I reply, “your cheating has shown that you don’t really care about me. If you did, you wouldn’t have cheated. You wouldn’t have gone behind my back.”
Honestly, I’m too tired to keep arguing with him.He’s not worth it,I repeat to myself.
It feels so hollow. Am I not worth it? Am I not worth someone making an effort and being loyal to me? Was that too much to expect? I’m not asking for complete devotion, I’m not asking for someone to hand me the world on a platter. I just want someone to stick to their word and care about how I feel.
“Have a nice life,” I tell Jason, getting to my feet and slinging my backpack over my shoulder.
When I get home to my apartment, I immediately feel defeated. I know that’s stupid and illogical, but it’s true. Coming home with a backpack full of my clothes and random knickknacks to a cold, dark apartment doesn’t exactly feel like a victory. Even if I know I’m the one who did the right thing.
Thanks to this stunt I’m going to have to do laundry tomorrow. I just drop my backpack by my laundry basket for now. I could just flop onto the bed and moan, find something to watch, maybe binge one of those cooking competition shows that they do reruns of late at night, eat some ice cream and bemoan my unhappy state.
