Chapter 9
600 Words
For two weeks, things were good.
Really good.
Fiona and Jared fell back into rhythm—study dates, late-night calls, sleepy mornings tangled in each other’s arms. Everything that had felt uncertain now had weight, roots, a pulse.
But life doesn’t pause just because love is blooming.
And Jason wasn’t a ghost Fiona could bury that easily.
---
It started with a message.
From an unknown number.
> Don’t get too comfortable. He was mine first.
She stared at the screen, heart hammering. Her first thought was Jason. But the tone didn’t fit him—not exactly.
She deleted it. Tried to pretend it didn’t shake her. But the next day, another came.
> Boys lie, Fi. Maybe ask who he texted last weekend while you were at your cousin’s?
She didn’t want to believe it. She didn’t.
But curiosity—that terrible whispering thing—had a way of creeping in where trust should’ve stood tall.
That night, as she lay next to Jared, watching the soft rise and fall of his chest, she whispered, “Were you talking to someone else when I left for my cousin’s?”
Jared blinked slowly, waking from a light sleep. “What?”
“I just… I got a weird message,” she said. “And it made me wonder.”
Jared sat up. “Who sent it?”
“No idea,” she admitted. “But it made it sound like… like there was someone else.”
He stared at her, expression unreadable. Then, finally—“I wasn’t with anyone, Fiona.”
“I didn’t say you were.”
“You didn’t have to,” he said, voice hardening.
Silence stretched between them like a cold sheet.
Then Jared sighed, rubbing his temples. “Jason,” he muttered.
“What?”
He looked at her, jaw clenched. “That’s Jason. This has him written all over it.”
She blinked. “Why would he do that?”
“Because he lost,” Jared said. “And he’s bitter. And if he can’t have you, he’ll make sure I suffer too.”
Fiona’s stomach twisted. “He wouldn’t—”
“He would,” Jared cut in. “You think I don’t know what he’s capable of? He’s not over it, Fi. He’s not over you.”
---
The next day, she confronted Jason.
In public. On purpose.
He was walking out of the gym when she caught up to him. The afternoon sun poured gold over the sidewalk, but her voice cut through the warmth.
“Why are you trying to ruin this for me?”
Jason looked surprised. But not guilty.
“You think I sent those messages?” he asked.
“You’re the only one who would,” she said. “It’s cruel, Jason. Even for you.”
He stepped closer, eyes locked on hers. “I may be a lot of things, Fiona, but I wouldn’t lie just to poison you two. I lost. I know that.”
“Then why does it feel like you’re still trying to play games?”
Jason leaned in. “Because I don’t believe he’s as clean as you think.”
She stiffened. “What does that mean?”
“It means,” he said slowly, “that you don’t know everything about Jared either. You think I was the heartbreaker? He’s just better at hiding it.”
Fiona’s heart cracked.
“I don’t believe you,” she whispered.
“Good,” Jason said. “You shouldn’t.”
Then he walked away, leaving Fiona in a mess of doubt and loyalty.
- Writer
