Memories I'd buried on purpose came flooding back, all at once.
Walking across campus, people would whisper about me, pointing when they thought I wasn't looking.
In the dining hall, anyone who recognized me would deliberately move to a different table.
When it was time to form groups for class projects, everyone else paired up seamlessly, leaving me standing alone. No one wanted me.
Jacob was the only one willing to stay by my side.
At first, I hadn't just sat there and taken it. I tried posting my own side of the story, but every single time, my posts were deleted almost instantly.
Only now did I realize: Jacob himself was the forum administrator. Controlling the narrative on campus must have been effortless for him.
The boys who used to like me turned on me overnight. Fueled by the mob, they escalated their attacks on the forum until it became outright character assassination.
Some said I deliberately led guys on. Others claimed I was stringing along multiple men at once. A few even spread lies that anyone could sleep with me for the right price, and that the only reason I'd gotten my graduate-school recommendation slot was because some rich older man was keeping me.
It wasn't until a few days later, when a post titled "Stop slandering my girlfriend" shot to the top of the forum, that the storm finally died down.
Jacob had written it. He claimed the luxury car was his, the apartment was one he'd rented, and I was simply his girlfriend. Nothing sordid about it.
To me, he said he'd only done it because he wanted to help me, and because he truly had feelings for me.
He asked me to give him a chance. And under that textbook suspension-bridge effect, I actually fell for him.
I thought Jacob had saved me. Now I knew he was the one who'd destroyed me in the first place.
The bullying I endured, the sincerity I gave him. To Jacob, all of it had been nothing more than a game.
"And just like that, I got the girl and eliminated every thought my childhood sweetheart's white knight had about my girlfriend. Pretty simple, right?"
"After that it was even easier. Her little admirer was heartbroken for a while, which gave my sweetheart the perfect opening. The two of them are doing great now, already planning where to honeymoon."
Jacob had written it all out in the post, dripping with self-satisfaction.
The comment section had already shifted. The outrage was gone, replaced by something worse: admiration.
"Am I the only one who thinks this guy's actually brilliant? He knew exactly what a girl needs to hear."
"No wonder he pulled it off. I could never come up with something like this. Shady? Sure. But it worked."
"But are you really that generous? Watching your childhood sweetheart end up with someone else doesn't bother you at all?"
Jacob seemed to be in high spirits, replying in the comments: "As long as she's happy. Who she's with doesn't matter."
"In a few days it'll be my one-year anniversary with my girlfriend. All this time, she hasn't suspected a thing. But I guess the jig is up now."
Outside the window, rain had started at some point, a thin, persistent drizzle tapping against the glass.
Beside me, Jacob was still sound asleep. Even in his dreams, his hand had found mine, fingers curled loosely around my wrist.
It was a habit of his. He craved physical contact. Whenever we were together, he'd press himself close, always needing to touch some part of me.
But now I couldn't tell which parts of him had been real and which had been performance.
I stared at the message my advisor had sent me about the overseas exchange program.
I unlocked my phone and scrolled back to the message from a few days ago.
"Cynthia, the department has one spot for a year-long exchange program in Avondale. The deadline is coming up fast. Think it over and get back to me as soon as you can. This program carries real weight and could make a significant difference for your future."
What I'd texted back was: "Thank you, Professor. Let me discuss it with my family."
I never discussed it with anyone.
All I could think was: Would Jacob agree? Would he think I was gone too long? A whole year without seeing each other. Would it ruin us?
But now, I'd changed my mind.
I deleted the polite draft I'd written to decline, and typed a new message.
"Professor, I want to go. Are there still spots available?"
