Obsessed | Jude Bellingham

45.

Bianca Dawson
Trust no one
•••

I couldn't face Jude the day everything blew up, so I hid in a hotel not too far from the city center. The room was small, just big enough for the weight of my guilt and the silence that pressed in on me.

Jude never called or texted, and with each passing hour, I told myself he needed space. I understood that, but the distance only deepened the hollow feeling in my chest. I knew I had to talk to him, to make him see that I wasn't the person the media was painting me out to be.

Yes, I lied. I knew who he was long before we met, and I loved him even then. I went to all his games, not just because I could, but because I was fascinated by him. I still am.

I kept rehearsing what I would say when I saw him. I wanted to apologize, to explain that I wasn't this crazed stalker Alexis and the media had made me out to be. I knew she was behind this, she had to be, her hunger for revenge finally satisfied. But when my medical records were leaked, I realized I had no choice. I had to talk to Jude before it got worse.

I wiped my tears as I drove to his house, willing myself to stop crying. Jude didn't deserve to be dragged into this mess, didn't deserve to be trolled on social media because of me. As I pulled up to his house, I noticed two additional cars parked outside. It was strange. A chill ran down my spine, but I pushed the feeling aside and hurried to the door, pressing the doorbell repeatedly.

When Jude opened the door, his eyes were red, like he'd been crying, or on the verge of it. For a moment, we just stood there, staring at each other. I wanted to speak, but the words wouldn't come. Instead, I threw my arms around him, and as my tears started to flow, I felt him slowly wrap his arms around me too.

"Bianca," he said softly, his voice barely above a whisper.

"Jude, I'm so, so, so sorry," I sobbed, clinging to him like he was the only thing keeping me from falling apart. But then he gently eased me off of him, stepping back. My heart sank as he walked away, and I followed behind him, desperate to explain myself.

As I stepped into the living room, my stomach dropped. There, standing by the couch, were my father and Junior. They were both staring at me, their expressions unreadable, but the tension in the room was suffocating. Jude eventually turned to face me, he was sad I've never seen him this sad before.

I looked over at Junior and the Devil beside him and my mind screamed at me to run, to get out of there before it was too late, but I was frozen in place.

It felt like an ambush. My gut told me something was terribly wrong, but I couldn't move. I looked at Jude, hoping he'd say something, anything to reassure me. But he just stared at the floor, avoiding my eyes.

"Don't even think about it, Bianca," my father said, his voice cold and commanding, as if he could hear my thoughts. My heart pounded in my chest, and I couldn't help but take a step back, my eyes darting between the three of them.

"What's going on? Why are you here? Jude, why are they here?" I asked, my voice trembling as the words left my mouth. But Jude didn't respond. He didn't even look up. I felt the walls closing in on me, the silence more suffocating than ever.

"Sit down, Bianca," my father said, his tone leaving no room for argument. I hesitated, glancing at Jude, but he gave me nothing. Slowly, I walked over to the couch and sat down, my hands trembling in my lap.

Junior leaned against the wall, his arms crossed, his face set in a grim expression. My father remained standing, his eyes locked on me with a look that made my blood run cold. I tried to keep my composure, but my mind was racing, trying to figure out what was happening.