In My Rearview Mirror, JACK.HUGHES

FORTY NINE

I'm a wreck. Tears have been my only companions, my showers abandoned, my meals forgotten. The couch has become my bed, a refuge from the haunting memories of that fight. I've turned away from the world, avoiding any contact, consumed by guilt that threatens to drown me.

I've tried reaching out to Braden, but he's been silent, except for this morning. He didn't want to talk; he just wanted to swing by and grab his stuff.

Braden storms into my apartment, his familiarity with the space a reminder of how much he's been a part of my life. Panic grips me as I follow him, hands fluttering nervously as if I could somehow catch the shattered pieces of our relationship.

"I'm so sorry, Braden. Can we talk?" I plead, my voice trembling with anxiety. But he brushes me off with a cold grunt, shutting down any hope of communication. Desperation drives me to keep pushing.

"Please, I need to explain," I beg, my gestures frantic, as if the force of my words alone could break through the barriers he's erected.

With his back to me, Braden reaches for one of his shirts, a silent declaration of his intention to leave. When he turns to face me, his eyes hold a pain that cuts me to the core.

"I don't want to hear your excuses, Morgan. You betrayed me, and it hurts. You've shattered my trust, and I gave you everything. I chose you over my closest friends," he accuses, his voice trembling with hurt. His words hang heavy in the air, a damning indictment of the betrayal that's torn us apart.

I stand there, my explanations falling on deaf ears, the weight of his accusations crushing me.

"I never meant to hurt you," I finally manage, my voice barely audible. "It's complicated, and I should have told you sooner. I just need you to understand."

"Understand?" Braden's voice rises, bitterness lacing each word like venom. He takes a step back, his arms crossing tightly over his chest, as if trying to shield himself from any further pain. "You think I can understand after what you did? I thought we had something special, something built on trust. And now, I don't even recognize you."

"I let you have this friendship, and... fuck, I should've known, god," Braden mutters, his frustration boiling over as he shoves his shirt aggressively into his bag, the force of his actions emphasizing the weight of his disappointment.

My heart sinks at the sight of his reaction, the reality of my actions hitting me like a freight train. "Braden, please, let me explain. I messed up, but I never wanted to hurt you."

He shoots me a glare, his eyes now reflecting a blend of hurt and disbelief, his body language mirroring the turmoil raging within him. "Explain? Morgan, there's no explanation for what you did. You kept secrets, betrayed my trust. What more is there to say?"

Desperation surges within me, and I plead with him, my voice trembling with emotion. "You can't leave me, please."

His response is swift and sharp, cutting through the air like a blade. "You don't want me to leave? You never wanted me in the first place. I always knew that you didn't love me. I'm not the one."

The weight of his words hangs in the air, suffocating me with their truth. I find myself sinking onto the bed, the weight of his accusations pressing down on me like a leaden blanket. I want to deny his accusations, to tell him that he's wrong, but the truth lingers in the heaviness of the room.

"I don't know, I just thought... I just thought that one day you would've realized that I was the love of your life. I wanted to see that look in your eyes. But I'm not the one," he says, sitting beside me with his head in his hands.