Wishing He Stayed–1
It’s midnight.
The numbers from my phone stare back at me, mocking me. I sigh, closing my eyes for a beat too long. When they pulse, I open them again.
I should be asleep. Jake definitely is, with his arm over my waist, his breath slow and even against the back of my neck. Usually, that would be comforting enough for me to get me sleeping.
But I’m wired. Eyes wide open, heart thudding like it’s trying to beat its way out of my chest.
I sigh softly and shift onto my back, careful not to wake him. The conversation from earlier replays in my mind like a song I can’t stop humming.
The way he looked at me.
The way his voice cracked when he said he shouldn’t have let it become what it is.
Obsession.
That word sits heavy in my stomach.
I glance down at him. His face is peaceful in sleep, softened by the darkness. There are creases around his eyes, lines that have deepened over time. Smile lines, frown lines, little marks from the years he’s lived.
I trace one of them with my gaze and feel something twist in my chest.
He’s beautiful. In a way that has nothing to do with youth or perfection. He’s real. Tangible. Warm. But still, I wonder if I’m the crazy one here.
Is this wrong?
Will I look back years from now and see myself as a naïve, desperate girl who clung to something she shouldn’t have? Who reached out for love in all the wrong places?
I breathe out and shake my head. No. I won’t regret this. Not Jake. Not Zaid. Not Aiden.
1/3
Wishing He Stayed–1
Gently, I lift Jake’s arm from around me and slide out of bed. He stirs but doesn’t wake. I make my way downstairs, my bare feet silent against the wooden steps.
The kitchen is dark except for the faint light from the stove clock. I open the freezer and scowl when I see it’s empty. No ice cream.
I chew the inside of my cheek for a second before making up my mind. It’s not that late. The gas station down the street is still open. I grab my phone and slip outside without thinking too hard about it.
The night air is crisp and cool, brushing against my skin as I walk down the street.
The store is nearly empty. I make a beeline for the freezer section and grab a pint of cookie dough. Comfort food. An emotional life raft disguised in delicious calories.
The bell above the door jingles as I walk out, and I’m halfway down the sidewalk when I hear laughter.
Too familiar. I stop.
A group of people round the corner. They’re huddled together, loud and obnoxious. My heart lurches in my chest and my throat tightens.
It’s Sadie. Of course it’s Sadie. She’s standing there with two other girls, Will, and three guys I don’t recognize. I take a step back, hoping they don’t notice me.
But of course, if everything else is falling apart, why would tonight go smooth?
Sadie stops the group, her jaw dropping in mock surprise.
“Oh
my god, look who it is,” she sneers loud enough for the whole block to hear.
Everyone stops their conversations, turning to me with raised eyebrows and disgusted
eyes.
“Little Miss Daddy Issues herself.”
The words hit like slaps.
Sadie steps closer. “So tell me, did you beg Mr. Adams for it? Or did you ask nicely? Either way, you shouldn’t have been surprised that he rejected you.”
2/3
Wishing He Staved–1
I try to push past them, but Sadie shoves at my shoulder just enough to make me stumble. My ice cream falls to the sidewalk with a soft thud.
Her laughter is sharp, and her friends immediately turn, their snickers joining hers as
they circle me like vultures. “How loose are you down there?”
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