3. A Charity Case
1155 Words
Emily
I just stand there, staring at him, trying to wrap my head around what is happening.
Because wow.
Jack cheated on me.
Actually cheated on me.
And the blonde girl I have never seen before scrambles off the bed like she just remembered she left the stove on. She grabs her wrinkled dress from the floor and struggles into it, her hands shaking. Meanwhile, Jack is still sitting there, looking tired and annoyed, like this whole situation is somehow exhausting for him.
The f*****g nerve.
She finishes dressing, picks up her bag, gives Jack a small nod, and heads for the door. When she passes me, she keeps her eyes glued to the floor. No apology. No explanation. Nothing.
Great. Love that for me.
She leaves the door open.
Now it is just me and him.
I shake my head slowly. “How could you do this?” I ask. “You told me you loved me. Is this how you prove it?”
He sighs and runs a hand through his brown hair. “Stop overreacting. She’s already gone.”
I stare at him.
“Overreacting?” My voice rises. “You were f*****g another girl, Jack. You cheated on me. And you don’t even feel bad?”
My chest feels tight, like it is being squeezed from the inside. I wait for him to look guilty. For him to say he is sorry.
He does neither.
Instead, he shrugs.
“I got bored,” he says. “You’re always studying. Always busy. We never hang out anymore. When we’re supposed to be having fun.”
“I’m on scholarship,” I say quietly. “You know that.”
“And you’re always trying to get some stupid job too,” he continues. “It’s f*****g annoying.”
I let out a short, bitter laugh. “I need money.”
“That’s your problem,” he snaps. “You’re poor. You can’t even handle ordinary tuition. Instead of being grateful that I’m dating you, you keep acting like I’m the bad guy.”
Something inside me breaks.
This is not the guy I fell in love with.
This is not the guy who used to sit with me during late-night study sessions and bring me coffee and tell me he was proud of me.
Tears blur my vision before I can stop them. I hate that he sees me like this. I hate that I still care.
Two years.
Two f*****g years of loving him.
For this.
He stands up and grabs something from the bed, tossing it onto the floor.
I look down.
A thong.
Just great.
Because humiliation clearly was not done with me yet.
He walks toward me, still naked, still acting like none of this matters.
“You’re making this a bigger deal than it is,” he says. “We can get past this.”
I laugh softly, broken and tired. “Get past it? You cheated on me. You insulted me. You blamed me for being broke. What exactly am I supposed to get past?”
He frowns, like I am being unreasonable.
Then he looks at me for a long second… thinking really hard.
Which is terrifying.
Because every time he thinks, something stupid comes out.
“Okay,” he says finally. “We can still make this work.”
I blink at him. “Excuse me?”
He straightens up, suddenly confident. “We just need to be… open.”
My brain crashes.
“Open,” I repeat slowly. “As in… open relationship open?”
“Yeah,” he says casually. “That way I can still be with you. But when I’m horny, I can go take care of it somewhere else.”
I stare at him.
I actually check his face to see if he is joking.
He is not.
“Did you just say that out loud,” I ask, “and expect me to nod and agree?”
He shrugs. “It makes sense. You’re busy. I have needs.”
“Oh my God,” I whisper. “You are f*****g insane.”
Anger floods my chest so fast I barely process it. I lift my hand without thinking and swing.
He catches my wrist mid-air.
“Are you f*****g crazy?” he snaps. “I’m trying to help you and you’re acting like this?”
Help me.
Help me?
I laugh, except it comes out broken. “You cheated on me and now you’re offering me emotional crumbs and calling it help?”
He rolls his eyes. “Honestly, I could have dumped you already. But I felt bad.”
I freeze.
“Felt bad?”
“Yeah,” he continues. “No one else is going to want you. You’re broke. You’re always stressed. You’re boring. I’m doing you a favor by staying.”
Each word feels like a slap.
My throat tightens. My eyes burn.
He keeps going.
“You should be grateful I’m even trying. Most guys would have left your bland ass.”
Fresh tears slip down my cheeks. I hate that he sees them. I hate that he caused them.
“You’re horrible,” I whisper. “You’re actually a damn horrible person. You know I need that money. I need it for my grandpa’s surgery. That’s why I’m trying to find a good job…so I can at least save up for him. How dare you talk down to me?
He scoffs. “Please.”
“I don’t need your stupid open relationship,” I say. “I don’t need you. You can f**k off.”
He stares at me like I just insulted his bloodline.
“You’re making a huge mistake,” he snaps. “Without me, you’re nothing on this campus. People only know you because of me. Take me away, and you’re invisible. And besides, how hard is it? We can still see each other. I’m just saying that since you’re busy sometimes and may not have time to f**k me, then someone else can do it.”
I laugh through my tears. “Wow. You really practiced that speech, didn’t you? Well, my answer is still no. Go f**k yourself, Jack Newman.”
“Fine, but nobody wants you,” he adds coldly. “No guy is going to date a charity case like you. You can’t even afford three square meals. You can’t afford good clothes. You can’t afford basic necessities, yet you act all high and mighty when someone tries to offer you help. In fact, I’m done with your embarrassing ass. At least now I don’t have to pretend I’m not ashamed of being your boyfriend. Go. Get the f**k out. Let’s see who will want you.”
Silence fills the room.
For half a second, I believed him.
Then a voice comes from behind me.
Calm and deep.
“I want her.”
I spin around.
- Writer
