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He doesn’t look like he’s dying on the inside. Doesn’t look like being around me is painful for him, like being around him is for me.
And why would he, I guess. He’s moved on and isn’t looking back.
Thankfully, except for the excruciating moment I caught them together, he hasn’t flaunted her around campus. Hasn’t rubbed their new relationship in my face or even spent any time near her when I’m around. I’m not naive enough to think that it’s not happening behind the scenes, but at least I’m not being made to watch it and pretend not to care.
On the inside, anxiety has me feeling like my stomach is eating itself. It’s been a week of sleepless nights laying awake, driving myself crazy analyzing every interaction leading up to that evening to try and see if there were signs I missed.
A week of tasteless food and wet textbooks as tears fell openly on the pages as I studied.
A week of every little thing I do reminding me of him in some way.
A week of radio silence.
In short, a week of emotional torture.
No wonder Rogue doesn’t believe in love. If this is the pain that comes with being in love, I’m not sure I want it either. Losing him like this doesn’t feel like something I can easily survive.
That doesn’t mean I’ll ever go back to him.
If he could so easily cheat on me, then he never really liked me. I only ever asked him for one thing in our short lived relationship and he couldn’t even do that.
I guess he never claimed otherwise. He’s the one who’d repeatedly told me he didn’t believe in relationships or love and, by proxy, monogamy.
I should have listened.
???
I’m standing in the takeaway line atBella'swaiting to order one of their famous milkshakes. I figure that while there’s no cure for heartbreak, whipped cream and chocolate certainly can’t hurt.
I move out of the way of a passing waiter, accidentally bumping into the man in front of me in the process. “Oh, I’m so sorry.”
He turns around and I realize it’s Jeremy.
“Hey, Bellamy. I didn’t see you there.”
“Me neither.” I say with a laugh that sounds hollow to my ears. “I was deep in thought, sorry.”
“Don’t worry about it.” He replies, taking a backwards step to stand shoulder to shoulder with me as he looks up at the menu. “Are you getting a milkshake?”
“Yeah,” I say, my mind suddenly flooded with memories as I see the ‘Malteser Milkshake’ on the menu. My throat closes and tears threaten to form.
Maybe this wasn’t such a good idea.
I swallow around the ball in my throat, something that’s become a regular occurrence these days. “Probably just a regular chocolate one with whipped cream.”
“I’m a vanilla man, myself.”
He gives me a charming smile. I struggle to return it, not having the energy to deal with flirting right now.
“So,” He says, shoving his hands in his jeans and kicking his foot out. “Listen, I was wondering… is there anything going on with Rogue?”
“No.” I say, my tone definitive. "I'm sorry about the way he attacked you at his house party."
“Forget about it. And good, I'm glad to hear it.” He says, the charming smile back on his face. We’re at the front of the line now. Turning towards the cashier, he orders. “One vanilla milkshake for me and one chocolate milkshake with as much whipped cream as you can put on there for my girl here, please.”
His words rankle.
I’m not ‘his girl’ and the last and only person who called me that just threw my heart in a blender and set it on high speed, so I’m not looking to be anyone else’s ‘girl’ anytime soon.
