Shotgun Love

Stop Calling Him!

The café door jingled shut behind Kevin, and for a moment, the surrounding chatter blurred into white noise. Keira just sat there, staring at the crumpled bills he had tossed onto the table like some cliché movie scene.

Her untouched latte sat across from her, the foam already sinking, just like her stomach. She picked up a fork and poked at the slice of overpriced cake he ordered earlier—triple chocolate with caramel drizzle, the kind she’d never bought for herself.

Keira thought, “Wow. He breaks my heart and my diet in one morning. Talented.”

She let out a short, awkward laugh that made the couple at the next table glance her way. She smiled at them, pretending everything was fine, but her throat was still burning.

Part of her wanted to cry. Another part wanted to march outside and throw the cake at his back. Instead, she shoved a spoonful into her mouth.

“Hmm. Not bad,” she muttered, chewing. “At least I’m not crying on an empty stomach.”

And that was how Keira found herself sitting alone on a Saturday morning—brokenhearted, full of expensive dessert she didn’t order, and wondering how the hell “baby bear” had managed to turn her life upside down.

Keira sat there longer than she planned, spooning through the cake like it had answers hidden under the frosting. Every bite was sweet and heavy, like the thoughts looping in her head.

Space. That was Kevin’s word. The polite breakup-in-disguise word. She knew this line very well; it's too common.

Her phone buzzed on the table. For a second, her chest leaped, slightly expecting it to be Kevin, apologizing. Maybe he realized he’d been too harsh. Maybe—

No.

Just a random group chat meme.

She exhaled, slumping against her chair.

Later That Afternoon – Back in Her Apartment

Her room felt smaller than usual, every corner echoing with the argument. Keira tossed her bag onto the bed, collapsed beside it, and stared at the ceiling.

Her phone was still in her hand, thumb hovering over Kevin’s name. She wanted to text him: What’s really going on? Whose baby bear?

But instead, she tried to stalk his social media feeds.

Bad idea. Always a bad idea.

And there it was. A tagged photo.

Kevin at the C-hub, grinning beside a group of gamers she didn’t recognize. The caption from someone else read:

“Squad goals with Kev! 🐻🔥 #BabyBearOnTop”

Keira froze. Her stomach dropped.

Baby Bear.

Keira’s thumb trembled as she tapped the photo. It expanded on her screen, sharp and unforgiving.

There was Kevin, slouched in his usual too-cool-for-this pose, holding a controller. Around him, three guys and—Keira’s breath caught—one girl!

She wasn’t just sitting there; she was right next to Kevin, leaning close enough that their shoulders touched. Her gamer tag was in the caption too: @BabyBearQueen.

Keira blinked, re-read, and felt her heart sink into her stomach.

Baby Bear wasn’t for me. It was for her!

She scrolled through the comments, each one twisting the knife deeper:

“King Kev & BabyBearQueen 🔥🔥 unstoppable duo!”

“Couple nickname goals 👑🐻”

“Ship them already!!!”

Keira slammed her phone face down on the bed, her heart racing. The room suddenly felt suffocating, as though the walls were leaning in to hear her humiliation.

Her mind replayed the morning text like a cruel joke.

"Good morning baby bear… see you at the C-hub later, so excited to match with you." Realizing she doesn't even play those games Kevin was playing.

That message was never meant for her.

Her throat tightened again, but this time, there was no laughter to cut it. Just the raw sting of betrayal, sharp and real.

Keira’s thoughts, spiraling:

“So I was the mistake. He didn’t even notice. Didn’t even care. How long has this been going on? Am I… the side character in his life?”

She curled into herself, hugging a pillow, but her brain refused to stop. She imagined Kevin laughing with her at that café instead, ordering cake and drinks, calling her “baby bear” like it was theirs.

It was almost funny. Almost.

Except it wasn’t. Then she felt a tear drop from the side of her eye.

Keira sat up, pulse hammering. She couldn’t just sit here, drowning in guesses. She grabbed her phone, opened Kevin’s contact, and hit call.

The line rang once. Twice. Three times. Then—

“Hellooo? Baby Bear hotline!” a girl’s playful voice answered, sing-song and mocking.

Keira froze. Her stomach twisted. “Uh… Kevin?”

The girl giggled. “Nope. Wrong bear. Kevin went home. Left his phone with me.”

Keira’s mouth went dry. She clutched the phone tighter. “Who is this?”

The girl laughed again, like it was some inside joke only she understood. “Oh, relax. Don’t sound so jealous. I’m just telling you to stop calling him, okay? He doesn’t need a nagging girlfriend blowing up his phone when he’s trying to have fun.”

The line clicked dead before Keira could speak.

The silence afterward was unbearable. Keira’s hands shook as she lowered the phone onto her lap, staring at it like it had betrayed her too.

Stop calling him.

The words echoed, sharp as glass. Her chest burned, half with anger, half with humiliation. It wasn’t just the pet name anymore, or the lies, or even the fight at the café. It was the fact that another girl had picked up his phone, teasing her like she was the intruder.

And the worst part? Kevin hadn’t corrected it. He’d left the phone behind. With HER.

Keira lay on her bed, staring at the ceiling in silence. The girl’s mocking voice still rang in her ears. “Stop calling him, okay?”

Her chest tightened, and before she could spiral further, her thumb hovered over another contact in her phone — Jules.

Jules always answered.

She hit call.

“Kei?” His voice came through, warm and familiar. “You okay?”

The dam in her throat nearly broke, but she forced a laugh. “Define okay.”

There was a pause. Then Jules said, gently, “Where are you?”

“Home,” she whispered, tiny tear drops coming out from her eyes but she tried her best to wipe them off, trying her best not to cry over this nonsense.

“I’m coming over.” He didn’t even ask permission. Just hung up.

Half an Hour Later at Keira’s Apartment

Jules showed up with takeout milk tea and that usual grin of his. The kind that made people at school call him campus cutie. It wasn’t just his looks; it was his easy charm, the way he carried himself like he was everyone’s safe place.

He grew up with three sisters, and it showed. Jules was sweet, thoughtful, and fiercely protective of the girls in his life. Maybe that’s why Keira trusted him more than anyone.

Keira had known him since high school, back when he and Kevin were inseparable. It was Jules who pulled her into their circle by inviting her to be the singer of their little garage band. Since then, they’d stuck like glue, treating each other like siblings.

And now, Jules was the only one she could run to without fear of being judged.

Now, he plopped the drinks on her desk and sat cross-legged on her floor like he owned the place.

“So,” he said, studying her face, “who do I have to beat up this time? Kevin again?”

Keira groaned, burying her face in a pillow. “It’s… worse.”

“Try me.”

She told him everything. The weird text, the café fight, the “space” speech, the tagged post at the C-hub, and finally, the girl who answered Kevin’s phone.

By the time she finished, Jules was frowning so hard it was almost comical.

“Let me get this straight,” he said, “he accidentally called you baby bear, which—by the way, ew!—and then you find out there’s a BabyBearQueen hanging off his shoulder? And then some random chick answers his phone and tells you to stop calling?”

Keira nodded miserably.

Jules exhaled sharply through his nose, shaking his head. “Unbelievable. And this guy wants space? He should be asking for forgiveness on his knees.”

Keira’s lips twitched into a weak laugh. “You make it sound simple.”

“That’s because it is simple,” Jules said firmly. “You deserve better, Kei. And you know it.”

Keira bit her lip, her voice small. “And that girl teased me. Like I’m some… nuisance. Like I don’t even exist.”, another set of tears simply came out again of her eye and she tried to wipe it off again.

Jules shook his head, running a hand through his hair. His protective side lit up instantly, like a reflex. “No way. No one gets to talk to you like that. Especially not because of him.”

She looked at him, at his sincerity, at how he always seemed to show up when she needed someone most. And for a fleeting second, she wondered why it felt easier to breathe around Jules than around Kevin.