My Ex’s Uncle My Boss and My Lover

Mission Myra

I stood up.

The room blurred with tears, but I blinked them back, refusing to let him see me break. Jake was still snoring, sprawled across my bed like the world hadn’t just collapsed around me.

I looked at him—really looked at him—and for the first time in three years, all I felt was disgust. The urge to slap him awake, to scream and shake him until he confessed everything, boiled in my chest. But I didn’t.

Instead, I walked to the nightstand and grabbed his phone.

I’d never touched it before—not once. Never snooped. Never felt the need to because I trusted him. But tonight? Tonight, all bets were off.

I took his hand and pressed his finger to the sensor. The phone unlocked with a soft click, like it had been waiting for me all along.

I opened his gallery. Messages. w******p. i********:. I didn’t even know what I was looking for until I found it.

Screenshots. Chats. Voice notes.

And there it was.

Sophie.

The same Sophie I’d cried to about Jake.

The same Sophie who introduced us.

The same Sophie I called my sister.

The same Sophie—my best friend of five years.

She dared him.

She was the one who started the whole damn game.

A truth or dare night with a group of friends, before I ever even laid eyes on Jake.

“Dare you to date someone for three years without catching feelings.”

“Someone sweet. Someone loyal. Let’s see if you can fool a good girl.”

“You will make her fall totally for you, and you won’t fall back.”

I saw it under Sophie’s messages.

Then Jake replied: “I told you I’m a bad guy, but how do I get a good one fast?”

“I’ll help you find one. Leave it to me.”

My heart stopped. My stomach twisted. My head felt empty. My soul left my body.

Then I scrolled up more to the day Jake and I met for the first time, and I saw her chatting him like:

“That’s the new joystick.”

She said that with a laughing emoji. My own best friend.

I kept on scrolling. There were many group chats, but I finally saw the one with my name: MISSION MYRA.

I opened it with trembling fingers.

And there it was—Jake, Sophie, Andrew, and the whole damn crew.

“Joystick’s still clueless,” Sophie had texted just last week.

“Player One’s toy doesn’t even suspect. Jake deserves a trophy,” Andrew added.

“Three more weeks and we wrap Mission Myra. We can finally free the poor Test Dummy,” someone else chimed in.

My vision swam. My ears rang.

I wasn’t a girlfriend.

I was a f*****g project.

A prop.

A joke.

And they thought it was hilarious.

I couldn’t control myself from crying.

I kept scrolling and scrolling.

And the more I scrolled…

The worse it got.

Photos.

Hotel receipts.

Nudes.

Messages.

They’d been sleeping together.

For two years.

As in, Jake and Sophie had been sleeping together for damn two years.

While I was playing the loyal, trusting girlfriend… Sophie was playing me behind my back. She was f*****g my boyfriend.

My hands went numb, my stomach turned to ice, and I couldn’t even swallow my own breath.

Jake stirred slightly in his sleep and mumbled her name.

“Soph…”

That was it.

I dropped the phone like it burned me.

For the first time in my life,

I didn’t just feel betrayed.

I felt destroyed.

And in that moment, I knew either Jake wakes up to my tears, or he wakes up to the end of us.