y.jw || strawberries and chocolates.

04 | knock on the right door

Working from home had its perks. No commute, no loud office chatter, and the comfort of my own space. But it also had its downsides—like being unable to truly escape my own thoughts. When work slowed down, I found myself staring at the glowing screen of my laptop, procrastinating by scrolling through social media.

It wasn't like I didn't try to avoid it. I had blocked Jake on every platform—Facebook, Instagram, even TikTok. I was determined to keep him out of my sight, out of my mind. Moving on meant moving forward, right?

But there's a funny thing about social media—it finds a way to haunt you. Even a single, harmless meme could spiral into memories of him laughing, his face lighting up like he had no worries in the world. My fingers hovered over my phone screen, heart pounding as I typed his name into the search bar.

I shouldn't have done it. I knew I shouldn't.

And yet, there I was, staring at his profile. For a moment, I debated whether this was worth it. What could I possibly gain from unblocking him? Closure? Validation?

Curiosity won. I unblocked him and braced myself for whatever I might see.

The first thing that greeted me was his Instagram story. Jake, smiling. Not alone. With her.

My breath caught in my throat.

She was leaning against him, her head resting on his shoulder like it belonged there. Her laugh was caught mid-moment, carefree and perfect.

It wasn't just any girl. It was her.

My old friend turned enemy. The one who stole secrets, twisted truths, and made life a nightmare back when I still thought we could trust each other. Now, she was the one smiling with him. The one he was proudly showing off, even though he never posted me.

It felt like a knife twisting in my chest.

So this was what moving on looked like for Jake. He was over me—quickly, apparently—and wasn't afraid to flaunt it.

I forced myself to close the app, but the damage was done. My stomach churned, a mix of anger, jealousy, and heartbreak bubbling up.

This was good, right? He was helping me move on. I'd told myself I wanted this, to cut ties and leave the past behind. But why did it hurt so much?

As if things couldn't get any worse, my phone buzzed again, pulling me out of my spiraling thoughts. I sighed, expecting another work email or spam notification, but when I glanced at the screen, my chest tightened.

It was from an old friend I hadn't heard from in years. The message was cheerful, almost painfully so, but the attached image made my stomach sink.

An invitation.

Oh, to a reunion.

A high school reunion. Or, more accurately, a gathering of our old friend group—the same group that Jake had been part of. The same Jake who would obviously be there. Probably with his new girlfriend in tow, grinning ear to ear as if he hadn't obliterated my heart just weeks ago.

The thought alone made my blood boil.

He wouldn't even need to say anything; his presence, his smirk, and her by his side would be enough to do the job. He'd flaunt it, of course he would. Maybe not on purpose—no, Jake was always too charmingly oblivious to realize how much he was hurting someone—but the outcome would be the same.

I threw my phone onto the couch and rubbed my temples, frustration bubbling over into anger. Why did everything have to happen all at once? Why couldn't I catch a break?