Behind Closed Doors (New Version)

Chapter 60

Jenna's pov
(Part 2)

The night has been a mix of highs and lows for me. The first game we played was Monopoly, and to be honest, I have no idea how I managed to convince Liv to play. She hates that game with a passion—she always says it brings out the worst in people. But I begged her by playfully pouting. She finally relented, though not without a dramatic roll of her eyes. And, of course, I ended up winning, which I think might have made her hate the game even more.

Everyone had a good time with it, though. There was plenty of playful banter, laughs, and a few exasperated sighs when someone landed on Boardwalk with a hotel. But throughout the game, I couldn't shake the feeling that something was off. It wasn't until about halfway through that I realized what was bothering me—Gabriella. Every time I glanced in her direction, I caught her staring at Liv. Not just a casual glance, but a full-on, intense gaze that made my blood boil.

I tried to ignore it, by telling myself that I was just being paranoid, but the longer it went on, the harder it became to keep my cool. Every time Gabriella looked at Liv, I felt a surge of anger rising in me. I didn't even know why I agreed to let her come tonight, knowing full well that she kissed my girlfriend once. That was a mistake on my part—a moment of weakness when I thought I could rise above it and be the bigger person. But now, I'm starting to regret it.

The game finally ends with me claiming victory, and I can't help but gloat a little, even though Liv  grins and shakes her head at me. As everyone starts to relax, discussing what game to play next, Gabriella suddenly stands up. "I'm gonna grab something to drink real quick," she says, her voice light, as if she hasn't just spent the last hour pissing me off.

I watch her walk toward the kitchen, and my irritation flares up again. I need to say something to her. Maybe it's the pregnancy hormones making me more confrontational, or maybe it's just the fact that I can't stand the idea of anyone looking at Liv that way—especially not someone who's already crossed the line once.

I wait a few seconds, trying to appear casual, before I start to get up. But before I can fully stand, Liv pulls me back down onto her lap, her arms wrapping around my waist to keep me in place. "Where are you going?" she whispers, her voice soft but with a hint of curiosity.

I force a smile, trying to keep my tone light. "I have to use the bathroom, babe," I lie, hoping she doesn't catch the slight edge in my voice.

Liv studies me for a moment, then presses a kiss to my forehead. "Okay, don't take too long," she says, releasing her hold on me. I can feel her eyes on my back as I quickly make my way out of the living room and into the kitchen.

When I walk into the kitchen, Gabriella is standing by the fridge, fixing herself a drink. She doesn't notice me at first, but as I walk closer, she turns around, and our eyes meet. There's something in her expression—maybe confusion or curiosity—but I don't give her a chance to say anything before I let my anger spill out.

"I don't appreciate you staring at my girlfriend like you want to rip her clothes off," I snap, my voice low but sharp, laced with the anger I've been holding back all night. "I've caught you so many times, Gabriella, and it's really starting to piss me the fuck off."

Gabriella's eyes widen in surprise, and she opens her mouth to respond, but I'm not done yet. I cut her off before she can get a word in. "She's not yours, but you're too busy being a damn home wrecker to see that. Liv and I are literally having a baby together, and you still can't respect that because you're to busy trying to get in my girlfriend's pants. You're fucking trash. I even let you inside my house, and you're still trying to get her."

The words tumble out of me in a harsh whisper, each one of them fueled by the jealousy and protectiveness that's been building up all night. I cross my arms, my body tense with the effort of holding myself back from completely losing it. Gabriella just stands there, her expression a mix of shock and something else—maybe guilt? I can't quite read it, and I don't care. I'm too angry to care.