finding my way through you

Chapter One

As soon as I started I couldn't stop.

My thumb ached as I scrolled quite a while before settling to read a thread of messages. My heart dropped as I saw the first message sent by the girl my boyfriend was texting.

•
1:05am:

'make sure you delete the chat x.'

'Done baby.'

'can't wait to see u again x.'

'You too.'
•

I scrolled further down, skipping a whole lot of exchanging explicit photos. Blurred lines danced across my vision.

Guess he forgot to delete these.

I didn't want to see her face, but I did. I scrolled back, clicking on the selfies she had sent to him while wearing some lingerie. She was beautiful. Her body was beautiful. She looked happy. Innocent, almost.

Quick footsteps sounded as he came back up the stairs, holding some of the food I had made earlier in the night. Rice bowl and chicken with roasted veggies. I cleared the tab that the messages were on and placed his phone down where he left it, picking up my pen and notepad to keep my hands from shaking. He came in the room, laughing loudly to his friends that were chatting back with him through the headset. He didn't notice the stunned expression on my face.

The food I made hours before made my stomach churn as I looked at him with disgust.

He sat at an angle, his back facing me, looking up at the TV sitting on my dresser. "Join up fuckers," He leaned back in his chair, waiting for the rest of his squad to ready up. He tossed some food in his mouth, chewing obnoxiously while pressing some buttons on his keyboard.

I closed my eyes and took deep breaths, trying to remember the person that I'd made the food for. I watched this man, this stranger, as he lifted the spoon up again to his lying, deceiving lips. The lips that kissed and serenaded me for five years.

This man wasn't the man I remembered. He wasn't mine. I stood up, stuffing his phone in my pocket and grabbing my car keys.

•

I came to Z's place after breaking my own heart by reading through all the messages that had not yet been deleted by Jamie. Z welcomed me in and shooed away the very attractive man sipping wine in his living room. I apologized profusely for interrupting his date while snot dripped from my nose. Not my proudest moment. I couldn't speak due to the tears so I unlocked Jamie's phone and let the messages do the talking.

Not only was he having sex with her, but had confessed his love for her. Somehow, that was worse.

As an author, this kind of stuff only happens in dramatic fiction, not to me. Never to me. Jamie and I have been dating for five years. Have? Had? I wasn't sure. I hadn't confronted him yet.

A minute of scrolling was all Z needed, he turned off the phone and placed it on the coffee table. He left momentarily and returned with a bottle of tequila.

He poured two shots.

I took the shot closest to me, and chased it with the other one before I sat back on his couch.

"Thanks." I mumbled, realizing the other be might've been for him.

I needed it more.

My head spun. Why was I not enough? I lifted the bottle to my lips, about to drink some more before I felt Z's cool hands on mine.

"I know you totally want to forget about tonight, but you kinda need to remember if you're gonna break-up with the dick tomorrow, okay?"

I nodded, letting him take away the bottle as the buzz settled in. I focused on a painting in front of me. I was about to point out that it was crooked before before I heard his voice in my head. Critiquing me. Jamie hated when I pointed out the smallest of mistakes. He yelled at me when I corrected him, even when he was clearly in the wrong.

My head spun further. He was a college dropout living in my apartment, leeching off of me.

I had given him everything and he still looked for it in someone else. Maybe it was my fault. Warm tears slid  down my cheek. I leaned forward rubbing my eyes profusely. Sobs threatened to leave my chest as he moved his hand to my back, rubbing slow circles.

I cried until I couldn't feel my lungs anymore.

•

Now I sat on his kitchen table, staring at my steaming hot coffee, hoping that this was all a dream and that I'd wake up in a cold sweat at any moment.

Z and I met after high school at a bar. I still remember the night that we met. We clicked so easily and immediately started talking about overrated restaurants.

Z had been in a rocky situation with his partner, Quentin, at the time because they weren't on the same page regarding their relationship. Quentin wasn't comfortable with a polyamorous relationship, which was what Z was couching for. He wanted freedom, Quentin wanted commitment. They didn't make it past the week.

We had talked that whole night, sipping Cosmos and people-watching. That is, until I got a call from Bayview correctional facility.

I had to leave immediately to bail Jamie out of jail for verbally assaulting a police officer.

That's a walking red flag honey."

Z tried to warn me of the red flags but I ignored it.

[Not to mention his name started with a J. The signs were painted blood red but I still turned a new page for him every single time. Not anymore.]

Fuck him.

•

The house was silent when I arrived. It was nearly noon and he was still sleeping. I looked over at Z who had already found a trash bag and was stuffing pictures and random clothes of his that was in the living room.

I walked upstairs. I could feel Z behind me. I looked back and he gave me a crooked smile paired with a thumbs up.

Fuck it.

Stepping forward, I nudged the door open and stepped in the room.