Growing Up - Jenna Ortega x Fem Reader

39.

By November you had learned to live with the heartbreak, with a lot of help from your friends and work. You still thought about Jenna every single day, especially when finding something that belonged to her inside your apartment that she never bothered to come get it, the longing and missing hit you like a wrecking ball.

Most days you knew she was in New York, cause you still didn't have the courage to unfollow her fan accounts, just to know how she was. She did seem fine.

Natalie called you, once she found out what happened, and every weekend she texted you that if you wanted to come over, you could.

Of course you never accepted, cause for you it made no sense. Apart from loosing a relationship you were invested in, you lost a whole family you grew up with. Maybe if Jenna would've just asked to break up, you've kept contact with her parents and her siblings, but cheating was on another level.

By the end of November, Ali out of the blue texted you a picture of herself with Jenna while they were bowling.

Aaliyah Ortega's text: Wanna join us? We're terrible. 😩

How you missed them, gosh, it physically hurt.

You replied, "Sorry, I can't, busy," while actually sitting on the sofa and watching cheesy rom-com movies.

Aaliyah Ortega's text: She's hurting you know?

Y/n text: Seems fine to me.

Aaliyah Ortega's text: Don't forget she's a fucking award winning actress. 💁🏻‍♀️

Y/n text: Yup, I know that very well, played me like a damn fool.

Aaliyah Ortega's text: No shit talking about my sister to me. I know she's wrong, but she's hurting, just letting you know. GTG, my turn. Luv u.

Fuck.

You tossed your phone onto the couch, feeling a mix of frustration and sadness. The weight of the situation bore down on you, making it hard to focus on anything else. The apartment felt too quiet, the silence amplifying the ache in your chest.

You wandered into the kitchen, staring blankly at the contents of the fridge. Nothing looked appealing. You grabbed a bottle of water and leaned against the counter, lost in thought.

Memories of Jenna flooded your mind—her laugh, her smile, the way you used to hold her. It all felt so distant now, tainted by the betrayal. You wanted to hate her, but your heart still ached for her.

Later that night, your phone buzzed again, a message from Jenna. She had been texting and calling you almost every day, each message a mix of apologies and pleas for forgiveness. You hadn't responded to any of them.

Jenna's text: Please, Y/n/n, can we talk? I'm sorry.

You stared at the message, your finger hovering over the screen. You wanted to reply, to tell her how much she hurt you, but you knew it wouldn't change anything. You couldn't trust her anymore.

Ignoring the message, you turned off your phone and threw it onto the couch again. You couldn't deal with her right now. The pain was still too fresh, the wound too raw.

You grabbed a blanket and curled up on the couch, trying to find some comfort in the familiar routine of watching cheesy rom-coms. The light-hearted plots and predictable endings were a small escape from the chaos of your emotions.

As the night wore on, the movies played in the background, but your mind kept drifting back to Jenna. You thought about the good times, the moments when everything felt perfect. But those memories were now overshadowed by the image of her making out with Lily.