Boys Like Him

So stupid

"f**k you, Lloyd."

Mariah stepped in immediately, sliding her arm around my shoulders, pulling me into her side.

"Come on," she muttered, shooting him a look that could melt steel. "We're done here."

"Next time you feel like ruining someone's life, try someone who actually deserves it."

She didn't give him time to respond either.

Just turned me toward the car, guiding me step by step like she knew my legs weren't fully mine anymore.

I didn't look back. I refused to give him that satisfaction.

By the time we reached her car, my hands were trembling so badly I had to grip the door just to steady myself.

"You're okay," Mariah said softly, squeezing my shoulder. "You're okay."

I nodded.

Even though it didn't feel like it, my chest felt hollowed out.

"I'll lock up," she added gently. "You just sit and try to pull yourself together, okay?"

Another nod.

I slid into the passenger's seat, shutting the door, the world outside going muffled for a second.

I didn't know how long I sat there broken, all I knew was Mariah sliding into the driver's seat.

The car ride was silent, except for the faint hum of the engine. Mariah's eyes flicked to me in the rearview mirror every so often. I didn't speak. Words had abandoned me, replaced by a searing mix of anger, shame, and heartbreak.

By the time we pulled into her apartment complex, I was shaking uncontrollably. I barely noticed the click of the door unlocking as we stepped inside. She led me straight to her couch, easing me down into its soft cushions.

I buried my face in my hands, shoulders trembling. "I," my voice cracked. "I was so stupid, Mariah. So stupid. You were right about him, all along, and I... I didn't listen. I thought I knew... I thought I could handle it... But I was wrong."

Her arms wrapped around me, pulling me close. Her touch was grounding, a tether to reality when everything inside me was spinning out of control. "Nyelle," she murmured gently, "you're not stupid. You made a choice, one that hurt, yes, but it doesn't define you. And you're learning. That's what matters."

"I should have listened," I sobbed, my chest heaving. "I should have never let him... I should've seen it. I should've... everything, Mariah. I... I feel like an idiot."

"You're not an i***t," she whispered again, stroking my hair. "You're human. You care too much, you feel too much. That's not weakness, it's strength. But you're allowed to set boundaries, Ny. You're allowed to walk away from people who hurt you, no matter how tempting they are."

I let out a long, ragged sob, clinging to her. "I swear, I'll never let myself fall for someone like him again. Never. I won't. I-" my words dissolved into choking sobs, my face pressed against her chest.

Her arms tightened around me, rocking me gently. "Shh... it's okay," she murmured. "You're safe now. You're not alone."

Minutes or maybe hours passed. My tears slowed, replaced by exhaustion so deep it pulled at my bones. I whispered broken confessions, murmurs of anger, regret, and vows to never let anyone control me like that again. Mariah didn't say much, she didn't need to. She just held me, her presence steady and unwavering.

Eventually, my sobs faded into quiet sniffles. My body slumped against her chest, the last of my strength draining away. The rhythm of her heartbeat against my cheek became a lullaby.

And then I fell asleep.

---

For two weeks, I went through what people jokingly, or not so jokingly, called Lloyd withdrawal. It was brutal. I didn't even set foot in my apartment. Mariah's place became my refuge. School, work at the salon, and extra marketing courses. I buried myself in anything that demanded my brain, attention, and energy.

I avoided him like the plague at school, ducked halls, ignored any chance encounters, and even when I saw him from afar, I turned the other way. I told myself I was done. I had to be. He couldn't hold me hostage anymore.

And now, standing in front of my building, keys in hand, I felt the surge of freedom, mixed with that tight twist of anxiety.

I pushed open the door and stepped inside, my chest heavy.

I had reclaimed myself. But damn, the reminders... they were everywhere.

I dropped my bag by the door and leaned against the frame, letting the silence wash over me. The apartment felt smaller somehow, more intimate than I remembered. Every corner, every surface, seemed charged with him, his scent lingering faintly on the couch where I'd fallen asleep after one of our late-night marathons, the way the sunlight hit the edge of the coffee table just like it had when he sprawled across it with his phone in hand.

I forced myself to step further in, dragging my feet over the hardwood floor, each creak of the boards echoing too loud in the quiet. I tried not to think, tried to tell myself I was stronger now, that two weeks of total avoidance had toughened me. But it was like walking into a trap, I could feel him everywhere I looked.

I made my way to the bedroom and flopped onto the bed, staring at the ceiling, willing my thoughts away.

I let out a long, shaky breath.

I got up and walked to the window, staring out at the city below, the world moving forward while I felt suspended in this private war inside me. I could almost see him, leaning against his car, that infuriating smirk he always wore when he knew he had me wrapped around his finger.

I placed my palm against the cold, transparent glass, allowing the biting chill to seep through my skin and wrap around my senses. With a heavy heart and trembling lips, I whispered into the silence, my voice barely audible, "I'm finished with you, Lloyd. Absolutely done."

I spun away from the window and crossed to my desk, picking up my notebook and laptop.