THE FIRST CRACKS
1071 Words
THE FIRST CRACKS
Rita sat on the couch, her legs crossed and arms folded, staring at Luke like he was a stain on her designer bag.
“I don’t get it,” she said, turning to Jasmine. “Why are you still here?”
Belle shifted uncomfortably clearly wanting to disappear. Luke, on the other hand, looked ready to snap.
“I told you,” Jasmine said smoothly, pouring herself another glass of wine. “I’m here because I want to be.”
Rita rolled her eyes. “No, you’re here because you want him to suffer.”
She sipped her wine letting the silence confirm the obvious.
Luke exhaled sharply. “Jasmine, this isn’t healthy.”
She set her glass down with a slow deliberate movement. “You should’ve thought about my health before you betrayed me.”
Rita snorted. “You tell him, sis.”
Belle looked between them, her expression unreadable.
Rita turned back to Luke, her tone mockingly sweet. “So tell me Luke, how does it feel to wake up every day and see the woman you threw away standing right in front of you?”
Luke’s jaw clenched.
Jasmine just smiled.
Rita leaned back, smug. “Yeah that’s what I thought.”
Later that night, after Rita left Jasmine sat alone in the living room.
She should go to bed.
She should pretend everything was fine.
But something inside her cracked.
Luke walked in rubbing his face looking exhausted. “Jasmine, can we just talk?”
She let out a slow breath. “Talk about what?”
“About this. Us. What we’re doing.”
She let out a bitter laugh. “There is no us, Luke.”
He flinched.
“You made your choice,” she continued, voice calm but sharp. “You chose Belle. You chose her over me.”
His face twisted. “It wasn’t like that.”
“Then what was it like?”
He looked away. “I… I don’t know.”
She stared at him for a long moment. “That’s the problem, isn’t it? You don’t know what you want.”
Luke exhaled. “I just know that I don’t want to fight anymore.”
She smirked, leaning back against the couch. “Well, I do.”
His hands clenched at his sides. “Jasmine…”
“You should go to bed, Luke,” she interrupted. “Belle might miss you.”
The muscle in his jaw ticked.
But he didn’t argue.
He just turned and walked away.
And Jasmine?
She sat there sipping her wine, staring at the spot where he stood.
And for the first time, she truly felt nothing.
Jasmine woke up to an empty bed.
It was nothing new.
Luke hadn’t slept beside her in weeks.
She wasn’t sure why it still bothered her. Maybe it was the principle of it, the fact that she had given him everything, and now he treated her like an afterthought.
No more.
She wasn’t an afterthought.
She was the woman who saved his life.
Jasmine sighed rolling out of bed. She didn’t bother dressing up just grabbed her robe and made her way downstairs.
Luke was in the kitchen making coffee. Belle stood beside him laughing softly at something he said.
She paused at the sight.
They looked like a real couple.
Like she was the outsider.
Her fingers tightened around the edge of her robe but her face remained impassive as she stepped forward. “Morning.”
Belle stiffen.
Luke tensed.
Jasmine smirked. Good.
“Morning” Belle murmured, stepping back slightly.
Luke nodded stiffly. “Jasmine.”
She walked past them reaching for a mug. “I’m surprised you two aren’t cuddling on the couch yet.”
Belle’s face flushed. “I..I was just asking Luke about the….”
Jasmine held up a hand. “Spare me.”
Luke set his coffee down, frustration clear in his eyes. “Jasmine, can we not do this?”
She turned to him slowly. “Do what?”
“This.” He gestured vaguely. “The passive-aggressive comments. The games.”
She let out a soft laugh. “Games?”
Belle swallowed. “I…I think I’ll just….”
“No, Belle, stay.” She interrupted, eyes still on Luke. “I want her to hear this.”
Luke exhaled rubbing his temple. “I just want things to be civil.”
She tilted her head. “Civil?”
“Yeah.”
She stepped closer, her voice dropping to a whisper. “You think you deserve civility?”
His jaw tightened. “Jasmine…”
She smiled. “Drink your coffee love. You’ll need the energy for all the guilt you carry.”
Then with a casual grace she turned and walked out.
Belle exhaled shakily.
Luke just stared after Jasmine, his grip on his mug tight enough to break it.
Later that day, Jasmine sat at a café stirring her tea absentmindedly.
Rita sat across from her tapping her nails on the table.
“So.”
Jasmine sighed. “So?”
Rita arched her brow. “How long are you going to keep living in that hellhole?”
She smirked. “I don’t know. How long do you think it’ll take before Luke completely falls apart?”
Rita groaned. “Jasmine, I love you but this isn’t healthy.”
She sipped her tea. “I’m fine.”
“No, you’re not.” Rita leaned forward. “I know you, Jas. And I know you’re hurting.”
Jasmine didn’t flinch.
Didn’t let anything show.
She simply set her cup down and smiled. “I’m fine.”
Rita exhaled. “You’re impossible.”
She just shrugged.
Because what was she supposed to say?
That Rita was right?
That she was crumbling inside?
No.
She wasn’t ready to admit that.
Not yet.
That night, Jasmine sat on the balcony staring at the city lights.
She heard footsteps behind her.
Luke.
She didn’t turn.
“I, uh…” His voice was hesitant. “I wanted to say I’m sorry.”
She let out a quiet laugh. “For what?”
There was a pause. “For everything.”
She finally turned to look at him. “Luke.”
He swallowed. “Yeah?”
She smiled soft, almost sad.
“I don’t believe you.”
He flinched.
She stood brushing past him.
And for the first time, he was the one left standing alone.
- Writer
