But the real kicker? Jason actually believes that Ava is terminally ill and doesn’t have much time left. So, he’s at her beck and call, waiting on her hand and foot. He might as well put up a shrine next to her bed and start worshipping her 24/7.
I want to shake him and see if anything’s even in there. How could someone be this blind? Seven years of my life, completely wasted.
Just then, my phone lit up, showing "Chase Thompson" on the screen.
Chase is my neighbor, and for years now, he’s quietly harbored a crush on me.
I answered the call, and his voice immediately reached me—soft, cautious, as if he was afraid of disturbing something fragile.
"Emma, are you okay? I saw Jason’s post..."
His words brushed against my heart, and I felt this strange flutter in my chest.
"I’m fine," I said, trying to sound casual. But I could even hear the tremor in my voice.
"Don’t be sad, Em. He doesn’t deserve you." His voice was steady, firm—like he meant it.
"You deserve better."
He suggested we hit up "our place," the quiet little bar we used to go to back in college. I didn’t hesitate.
I needed to drown out the anger, the hurt, the confusion. A couple of drinks sounded perfect.
...