Obsessed | Jude Bellingham

40.

Bianca Dawson
Nancy Drew Dupe
•••

"Born to be with you" haunted me. The words played on a loop in my mind, invading my thoughts no matter what I was doing.

I heard it in my sleep, like a lullaby turned nightmare. I heard it while showering, the water pouring over me couldn't wash it away. I heard it while brushing my teeth, the rhythm of the bristles on my teeth syncing with the words, making them even more inescapable.

Seeing those messages broke my heart in a way I never experienced before. I tried to tell myself, "It's before we really got together," whispering the words as if saying them out loud would somehow make them true. But deep down, I wasn't sure.

I looked out the window of the chartered flight to Italy, the clouds drifting below us like the pieces of my shattered heart. I couldn't shake the feeling, fuck! The memories of Jude and those text messages echoed in my head. They were like ghosts from a past I couldn't control but desperately wanted to rewrite.

My phone was in my hand, and I found myself scrolling through pictures of Jude. There we were, together on dates, together at his games, me cheering him on from the stands. I paused on an off-guard picture of him laughing at something I'd said, his eyes crinkled with pure joy. I was in love with this man—deeply, madly in love. But the thought that it might not be the same for him gnawed at me, like a splinter I couldn't remove no matter how hard I tried.

It felt like holding onto sand; no matter how tightly I grasped, it kept slipping through my fingers. Jude's love, which once felt like a warm, now seemed distant and unsure. I wanted to believe that what we had was real, that it was stronger than anything that came before. But seeing those texts, his feelings for Lana, made me question everything. How could I compete with a memory, with a love that had been left unresolved?

I kept scrolling, each picture a reminder of what we had—or what I thought we had. The selfies, the moments, the candid shots where he looked at me like I was his whole world. Was that just an illusion? Was I simply filling a void, a rebound to help him forget the pain?

I stopped on a picture of us at one of his games, his arm around me as he kissed the top of my head. The stadium was a blur in the background, and all that mattered in that moment was us. I stared at the picture, trying to remember how it felt to be so sure, so confident in our love.

But now, it felt like a puzzle with pieces that didn't quite fit. The image was beautiful, but it was like a reflection on water—distorted and fragile, ready to break apart with the slightest ripple.

Maybe I was the ripple. Maybe all it took was those messages to crack the surface of our relationship, revealing the doubts and insecurities beneath.

I closed my eyes, leaning back in the seat, trying to steady my breathing. It was before we really got together, I reminded myself again, but the words were hollow. They didn't offer the comfort I needed.

As the plane glided smoothly through the sky, I felt a knot of dread in my stomach. I wasn't just flying to Italy; I was flying into the unknown. I had planned to see Linda, to get answers, and I did but now it felt like I was the one who needed answers. Answers from Jude, from myself. Was I enough?

I opened my eyes, staring out at the horizon. The sun was beginning to set, painting the sky with hues of orange and pink. It was beautiful, but it only reminded me of the sunsets I had watched with Jude. Those moments were ours, and yet, they weren't entirely. A part of him was still with her, with Lana, and it made me wonder if I was just a placeholder in his life, a substitute for the love he couldn't have.