Jason quickly clamped his hand over Jacqueline’s mouth. I watched them in silence, fists clenched.
“Let her speak. I wanted to hear it.”
Jacqueline glanced at him, hesitated, then said, “It happened after finals. We were all drinking pretty hard.”
“We ended up in a bathroom stall at the bar.”
“After that, it turned into an addiction. We couldn’t go more than a few days without it.”
Every word landed like a punch to the gut.
That day was the beginning of my relationship with Jason. When I finished my exams, he was waiting outside holding a bouquet that symbolized everlasting love. The moment was wrapped in perfect sunlight and a gentle breeze. My heart soared.
Later, at the celebratory dinner, I noticed Jacqueline had been gone for a while. Worried she’d had too much to drink and gotten herself into trouble, I went looking for her. When I found her, her face was flushed and she could barely walk straight. I assumed she’d been trying to fend off drinks meant for me and had gone overboard, so I spent all night taking care of her.
Even Jason—who usually let his jealousy of Jacqueline show—was unusually considerate, texting to check in on us. I thought my efforts had finally paid off. The man I loved and my best friend seemed to have finally made peace. I was already dreaming of the good times we’d have together at college.
The memories rushed back with brutal clarity.
“So, why did you change my college application?” I asked.
Jason stood and tousled my hair. “You’re sharp, sweetheart. Jacqueline gave me her first time. She wanted Columbia—how was I supposed to say no?”
“You scored higher than she did. If you’d chosen Columbia, it would’ve hurt her chances.”
“You’re kind and soft-hearted. If you came with me to NYU, I could take care of you.”
He knew Columbia had always been my dream. For three years of high school, I’d been relentless—waking at dawn and staying up past midnight—all to reach it.
When I found out my application had been changed to NYU, my world fell apart. I confronted Jason in a frenzy. He cried and begged on his knees, saying he was afraid distance would make me fall for someone else, that it would wear our love down, that I might outshine him.
He knelt outside my house for three days before I finally went out to see him.
Turns out, all those fears were lies.
The real fear was that I’d stand in Jacqueline’s way.
Once the thoughts started, the pieces clicked into place. Every weekend he had to slip away, Jacqueline would be slower to text back. The figure that kept popping up in Jacqueline’s Instagram was starting to look more and more like Jason.
Jacqueline quickly spoke up. “Shay, I never meant to steal him from you.”
“I never wanted to hurt you, but attraction doesn’t exactly follow logic.”
“The baby’s innocent. I don’t want her growing up without a father the way I did. To the outside world, he can still be your husband.”
The absurdity of it all was overwhelming. All I could manage was a bitter laugh.
I didn’t say another word. I pulled out my phone, scrolled through their conversation one last time, and sent a message to Karim, whose profile photo was a nondescript silhouette.
