I'm Sorry | Natasha Romanoff

Chapter 11: Love Sucks

An: Guys I am starting to think I need a real username lmao

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Jenna stood in the middle of the room, her eyes fixed on the spot where Natasha had disappeared. The room was literally falling apart around her—ceiling tiles crashing down, walls buckling, and debris scattering in all directions. It was a fitting metaphor for her life at that moment.

Despite the crumbling world around her, Jenna's resolve remained. She tore her gaze away from the empty doorway, the finality of Natasha's departure sinking in. With a deep, weary breath, she began to walk toward the exit.

As she made her way through the wreckage, Jenna glanced up at Dreykov, who stood as emotionless and detached as ever.

Love sucks.

Jenna continued walking. Dreykov, still under her control, followed silently.

She had wanted to be the hero in Natasha's story, to be the one who saved her.. But the more Jenna thought about it, the clearer it became: Natasha never needed saving. Natasha was already the hero of her own story, strong and capable, fighting her battles and making her own choices.

In contrast, Jenna had only ever been a villain in Natasha's tale—a dark chapter of tragedy and betrayal. It was a bitter pill to swallow, but Jenna understood now. Her role was never to redeem herself or be a hero; it was to be the antagonist, the force that challenged Natasha, even if it meant becoming another painful episode in her story.

Jenna's thoughts turned to the concept of love. Now, it felt like an exquisite poison, corrupting everything it touched. It could drive people to the heights of their greatest joys or drag them into the depths of their darkest despair.

Jenna sat in the jet, the once pristine interior now feeling oddly claustrophobic. The roar of the engines was a distant hum compared to the cacophony of destruction that echoed from below. She watched through the viewport as the Red Room crumbled, its shattered remnants falling away like confetti in a twisted, catastrophic parade.

For a moment, Jenna's gaze drifted past the destruction to the sight of Natasha's jet, making its way into the distance. Despite herself, Jenna's heart clenched with the desire to know if Natasha had made it out safely.

Mara, sensing the gloom that had settled over Jenna like a heavy shroud, approached her with a quiet, compassionate demeanor. She stood beside Jenna, her eyes full of understanding.

"You know, you can still check on her" Mara said gently.

Jenna shook her head, her expression a mix of pain and resignation. "It's better if I don't."

Mara's eyes softened, her voice carrying a comforting tone. "I know it's killing you right now, not knowing if she got out okay. And that's okay. It's okay to still care for her, even after everything that's happened."

Jenna's gaze remained fixed on the view outside, the chaos below mirroring the turmoil within her. "How can I justify still caring?"

"You don't have to justify it" Mara began, her voice calm and steady. "Caring about someone isn't something that just goes away because you made mistakes, or because things didn't work out the way you hoped. Love isn't logical, Jenna. It's messy, complicated, and sometimes it even hurts more than it heals."

Jenna clenched her jaw, her eyes narrowing slightly as she turned to face Mara. "But everything should be logical" she argued, her voice tense, as if she were trying to convince herself as much as Mara. "Actions have consequences. Choices have meaning. Everything in my life has been a plan. Every step I've taken, every person I've crossed—everything is part of the game. It has to be. I manipulated her, twisted her feelings, used her trust to serve my own goals."