Fleeting Flames - Jenna Ortega x Fem Reader

Part 26

The door bell came just after sunset, its echo breaking the tense silence of the house. You were sitting on the living room couch, laptop balanced precariously on your knees, attempting to finalize a report for work while your mind kept drifting to your mom's condition. You were running on fumes—barely sleeping, barely eating, barely feeling like yourself anymore.

When the bell rang again, longer this time, your sister called from the kitchen. "You gonna get that?"

With a groan, you pushed yourself off the couch and shuffled toward the door, not even bothering to check who it was. You opened it to find Jenna standing there, suitcase in hand, looking at you with tentative hope in her eyes.

"Hey," she said softly, her voice almost drowned out by the evening breeze.

"Jenna," you breathed, your surprise momentarily overriding the exhaustion in your voice. "You didn't even tell me you were coming."

"I told I'll make it work," she said, stepping closer. "After our fight, I couldn't stop thinking about it. About you. I rearranged some things and caught the first flight I could."

You didn't know how to feel. A part of you was relieved, but another part—a much larger part—felt raw and exposed, like her arrival wasn't enough to soothe the ache of the past few weeks. Still, you stepped aside to let her in.

She dropped her suitcase by the door and wrapped her arms around you, holding on tightly. But the hug felt... different. You felt stiff in her embrace, and though you let her pull you close, you couldn't bring yourself to hold her with the same fervor.

"I missed you," she whispered into your shoulder.

"Yeah," you muttered, pulling back too quickly. "Same."

She tilted her head, studying you. "You okay?"

"Just tired," you said, brushing past her to sit back on the couch.

She followed you into the living room, sitting beside you and placing a hand on your knee. "I know things have been hard," she began cautiously. "But I'm here now. At least for a couple of days."

The words should have comforted you, but instead, they felt hollow, like they'd arrived too late. You turned to her, your eyes heavy with the weight of everything you'd been carrying. "Jenna, it's not about you being here now. It's about all the times you weren't when I needed you."

Her brows knitted together. "I told you I was doing my best. I am doing my best. My schedule's insane—I can't just drop everything all the time."

"I'm not asking for all the time!" you snapped, your voice louder than you intended. "I'm asking for when it matters. You promised me, Jenna. You promised you'd be here for me. But I've been doing this alone. Every hospital visit, every sleepless night—alone."

Her expression hardened. "You think I don't care? That I'm just off gallivanting, prioritizing my career over you?"

"That's exactly what it feels like," you said, the words spilling out before you could stop them. "You chose this career, Jenna. You knew it would pull you away from the people you love. And I knew that too when I agree on a relationship with you, but you told me we could make it work. You told me you'd be here. And now I'm supposed to just... what? Be okay with you not being able to show up?"

She leaned back, her arms crossed defensively. "You're being unfair. You're acting like I don't care just because I can't be here 24/7. That's not realistic, Y/N, and you know it. Love doesn't mean we're glued to each other all the time."

"Love also means showing up when it matters," you countered, your voice breaking. "I've been showing up, Jenna. For my mom, for my family, for you. And I'm exhausted. I'm at my breaking point, and I don't know how much more I can give."