R U S S O 18+

R U S S O 30

R U S S O 30

Irene held her phone in her hand, top lip raised, nose scrunched, eyes narrowed, and a glare written visibly towards the image on her screen.

"I can't believe he's still seeing her," Irene remarked, gazing at the picture of Mateo and Anastasia that's been up on his Instagram story for hours.

"Who are you talking about?" her friend, Betty, asked as she scribbled words onto a page from her notebook.

"Mateo," Irene huffed. "He was with her last night, and how I know is because he posted her."

"Seriously?" Betty asked, looking up abruptly. Irene gave a nod. "Let me see. Estás mintiendo," you're lying.

Betty's brows rose when Irene flipped the phone around to her. "See. Why would I lie about that?"

Betty eyed the photo closely, first seeing that Anastasia was in the passenger seat of the car. With her elbow leaning on the center console to hold the side of Mateo's face, Anastasia gazed up into the camera with a soft smile, her cheek pressed against his. Irene would've been salty about seeing a photo of them two anyway, but to know Mateo shared it on his page for everyone to see, she was boiling in a pot of envy.

"This was last night." Betty mumbled, glancing at the time on the post.

"I know," Irene said. "7:52 p.m.," and she's been staring at it since.

"Didn't you post that picture to your close friends and showed Madison's friend?" Betty asked, glancing over at her with knitted brows before looking back at the photo.

"Yes!" Irene exclaims. "I posted the one with us in bed with the condom in my mouth. That usually runs the bitches off. They yell in his face, he yells back, the girl leaves, and he makes me his rebound. It's a pattern, and now she's fucking with it."

"Yeah, that went to shit," she utters. Shen then hisses when she realizes, "He never posts a girl on his stories. Like never."

"I know!" Irene whines. "He has to be doing this to piss me off because of what I did, or he hates me."

Betty says, "That's a bit dramatic. He doesn't hate you."

"So what else could it be?" Irene is damn near whining. "Let's say he doesn't hate me. That means he feels more for her than sex, which means I'm losing my value to him and I'm just nothing. The hell am I going to do?"

Betty shrugs. "Talk to him."

Irene sighs. "He hasn't been responding to my texts since she got into the picture."

"What class does he usually have at this time?" Betty asks.

She takes a peek at the time and realizes, "He might be getting breakfast right now," she mumbles, looking around towards the cafe he usually goes to.

It was early, and almost every morning he went to grab something to eat from the coffee house. Irene picked up on his routine within the months she'd dealt with him. 

"So, go confront him," Betty ushers with her hand for Irene to leave.

Irene felt Mateo become distant with her, and she knew she should've jumped on things faster when he randomly stopped texting her back. Mateo's messages were always short with her, but she noticed that eventually he wouldn't respond.

The only way she could speak with him was by forcing their run-ins, like she was about to do now.

Mateo was exactly where Irene anticipated him to be, and the smile grew on her face as she noticed him. He was oblivious to the woman approaching him, busy looking at something on his phone.