Forever and ever 2. The adventure starts now.

Part 152.

Tom's pov~

I know the silence will follow.

My suspicion didn't wane; Y/N had hoped for more than I could give her.

"Good morning," she murmured as she descended the stairs, catching me at the table with my phone, munching on my bowl of cereal before heading to boxing practice. Parker was already at kindergarten, and he wouldn't be back until 2.

"Did you sleep well?" Y/N persisted, but I didn't even have to make an effort to ignore her as a new message popped up on my phone. Last night, I had messaged Bob, using the most polite and refined tone I could use.

Tom:
What the flip dude?!
11:23 pm.
Tom:
Did I mean nothing to you?!
11:23 pm.

I mean- a text would have been nice. But now he had finally answered.

Bob:
I'm sorry, who are you?
08:34 am.

Tom:
Seriously mate? It's your favourite man, Tom.
08:35 am.

I suppressed a chuckle and the furrowing of my eyebrows, fully aware that Y/N was watching me from just a few feet away.

"Everything okay?" she asked.

Bob:
Tom?! Where are you?! Did you change your number?
08:36 am.

I had completely forgotten that a lot had happened since the last time I saw Bob. I had a new phone and a new number, and I wasn't in Cape Town anymore, which he didn't know about.

Y/N approached me, and I knew she would try to get too close, so I quickly slid off my chair and took my half-empty bowl of cereal to the sink. Maybe I wasn't quite full, but breakfast was starting to feel like cardboard in my mouth. I set my phone aside in my pocket, attempting to steal a glance at her when she wasn't looking, but it was impossible. Y/N immediately caught my gaze, and I could see that she was visibly upset. Her posture conveyed her indignation, and her face betrayed her hurt. It shouldn't have mattered to me, and frankly, it didn't. Let her sulk; it wasn't my fault if she expected too much. She knew me, and she knew how I was. She should have been prepared to hear only what I chose to tell her. With my bag slung over my shoulder, I headed towards the front door, with Y/N trailing behind me.

"Tommy, what's—" But did she dare to ask me what was wrong or any question that wasn't her business, because she was the reason for every single one of my actions. And the nickname couldn't have been more inappropriate. I started to hate how it made my heart feel, as if it were fighting against me even though it knew it couldn't win.

"Don't you call me that," I raised my finger, creating a distance between us that she knew to respect instead of chasing after me like a little rabbit. I knew Y/N would do anything I wanted, but who was I to take advantage of that? Who did she think I was?

I slammed the door behind me on my way out, hating myself for still wondering during the drive how Y/N was reacting and what she was doing. But in that moment, everything was back to normal, and I felt somewhat relieved to have escaped from the events of the previous evening. Couldn't let myself cave in for her. Couldn't allow her to get close to me.

And so, the worst and most agonizing days of my life resumed, yet none as harrowing as the Thursday that followed. It was the first time I dared to venture back onto social media, only to have my heart shattered upon discovering what people had sent me. There were images and videos of Y/N on set, standing next to Clark, laughing. Logically, I understood it could only be friendly, a moment captured by the set photographer to freeze the picture, but it was enough to set my heart racing. Yet, it didn't end there. The blow came with a video of Y/N and Clark holding hands at a party, intertwined as if she didn't even know who I was in that moment. Some images were poorly taken, and occasionally so dark that it was difficult to discern if it was truly Y/N, but I tried not to fool myself. The people who brought this to my attention knew Y/N inside out.
"What the hell..." I scrolled further and further. Hundreds of images of the two of them, all on a single platform.
"What's up?" Sam asked as I chilled at his place once again. I showed him a brief glimpse of the images until I reached the one that changed everything of the past few weeks. Y/N and Clark making out in the midst of the dance floor. It was a blurry video, zoomed in from 20 meters away, with people constantly dancing in front of them, yet it didn't hinder anyone from seeing how he devoured her tongue and how she allowed it. How she held his head and pressed herself into him. How her hands roamed, and how her chest heaved with passion. That was her, that was Y/N.
My wife, kissing another man as if there were no tomorrow.