ADDICTED

22.The Goodbye"

Chapter 22

Later that night, after her confession, I couldn't help but replay everything over and over in my head the texts, the calls, the lies. It was hard to accept that things had come to this, but the reality stared me in the face, daring me to take action. No matter how much I wanted to avoid it, there was only one option that made sense, and it kept resurfacing in my mind: I had to break up with her.

The thought gnawed at me. The weight of our memories and all the time we had shared together made it difficult to just let go.

We had come so far, and a part of me wondered if maybe we could work through it. But each time I tried to reason my way out of it, the image of that name on her phone would reappear, reminding me of what had truly happened.

She had betrayed me, and despite her attempts to explain, I knew things would never be the same.

After hours of wrestling with the decision, I finally made up my mind. I sat on my bed, phone in hand, staring at the empty text box. My heart raced, and for a moment, I felt a pang of hesitation.

What if I was making a mistake? What if she really meant the apologies, and this was just a temporary lapse?

But the longer I thought about it, the more I realized that I couldn't continue living with that uncertainty. I couldn't keep doubting her every word or wondering who she was talking to when I wasn't around. That wasn't the relationship I wanted.

I took a deep breath and started typing.

"I can't do this anymore."

I stared at the message, feeling a knot form in my chest. It was a short sentence, but it carried the weight of everything I had been feeling for the past few months. After what felt like an eternity, I hit send.

The message was delivered, and within seconds, her reply came.

"What do you mean? Please don't do this. We can talk. I'm really sorry about everything."

Her words hit me, but they didn't carry the weight they once did. Apologies didn't fix betrayal.

They didn't erase the fact that she had lied and disrespected me. I knew her well enough to see through the desperation. She was scrambling, trying to undo what couldn't be undone.

"I don't want to talk anymore. It's over."

As soon as I sent that message, I felt a mixture of relief and regret. It was strange part of me wanted to go back and take it all back, but the other part of me knew this was what had to happen. She had made her choice, and now, I was making mine.

Her texts came through in waves.

"Please, just listen to me."
"I made a mistake, I know, but I'll fix it."
"We've been through so much together. Don't throw this away."

But each message felt hollow to me. My decision was final, and no amount of apologizing could change that. Still, she kept texting, each message more desperate than the last.

Then, my phone rang. Her name flashed on the screen, the familiar ringtone filling the room. I stared at it, my thumb hovering over the screen. I didn't want to hear her voice. I didn't want to get pulled back into the same cycle of promises and excuses.

The phone rang out. And then it rang again. Each call became harder to ignore, but I did it. I let them all go unanswered. I wasn't going to let her talk me into something I knew I'd regret. Not this time.

After the fourth missed call, I put my phone on silent. I couldn't deal with it anymore. I needed space to clear my head, to process everything. I had made my decision, and now, I just needed to live with it.

That night, I lay in bed, staring at the ceiling, replaying everything. The laughter we once shared, the long conversations, the way she made me feel like the only person in the world. And then, I thought of the lies, the betrayal, the distance that had crept between us without me realizing it. It hurt, but deep down, I knew this was for the best.

She texted again the next day, but this time, the messages were shorter. The desperation had faded, replaced by resignation. It was clear she knew that I wasn't going to change my mind.

I had broken up with Ivy, but part of me had not agree to the decision.  

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