7th
379 Words
Chapter Seven: “Public Love, Private Wounds”
Jasmine didn’t follow them.
But the internet had its ways.
Every time she opened YouTube to watch something harmless — a recipe, a song — their vlog popped up in the suggestions:
“Lara & Kenzo: Our First Month as Mr & Mrs 🥰✨”
“Couple Morning Routine — Love Lives Here!”
Every thumbnail felt like a stab in the ribs.
Lara, in satin pajamas, kissing the camera.
Kenzo behind her, arms around her waist, saying, “Marrying your best friend? Nothing better.”
Best friend.
Jasmine stared at the screen like it was lying. But it wasn’t.
It was them, performing joy with the same rhythm she once lived with him.
She used to be the girl in those vlogs.
Now she was the cautionary tale.
Her name still trended from time to time — “Jasmine’s silence is too loud,” “Why hasn’t Jasmine spoken?” “Justice for Jasmine” — but hashtags didn’t heal.
Not when the man who once called her his soulmate now kissed her sister-friend for clout.
They posted everything.
The house tour.
The honeymoon in the Maldives.
The surprise "I love you" edits.
Lara laughing as Kenzo fed her grapes on a balcony Jasmine once dreamed of standing on.
And the captions hurt more than the pictures.
“Grateful for peace.”
“When you find the one who was meant for you, everything else makes sense.”
“God’s plan.”
God’s plan?
Jasmine threw her phone once — not in rage, but despair.
It landed under the couch, screen cracked. She left it there.
That night, she sat on the cold floor, knees to her chest, whispering to the dark:
“Was I not enough? Was I just a practice run?”
The room didn’t answer.
But her heart did — faint, fractured, still beating.
Even as the world celebrated their love story, she held her silence like a shield.
But every post chipped at her armor.
Still, she didn’t fight them online.
She didn’t defend herself.
Not because she was weak.
But because she knew — some wars are won by walking away and building something they can never touch.
Not love.
Not revenge.
But legacy
- Writer
