Fleeting Flames - Jenna Ortega x Fem Reader

Part 27

Weeks had passed since that night in Miami, when you and Jenna had woken up in each other's arms, miles apart even while sharing the same bed. She left the very next morning for her press tour, the two of you exchanging a tight hug at the airport but few meaningful words.

Nothing had been resolved. She said she'd stay, but honestly, she couldn't.

You weren't ready to let her go, but you weren't ready to confront the growing distance between you either. So, you did what you always did—you avoided. You buried yourself in caring for your mom, whose health was finally starting to show signs of improvement. The doctors still didn't have a diagnosis, but her treatment was working, and she had more energy than she'd had in months.

When you returned to LA, life felt off-balance. Jenna was still away, calling every night to check on you, her voice warm but laced with exhaustion. The awkward tension lingered, though neither of you brought it up.

"Hey, how are you?" she'd ask, always starting the same way.

"I'm fine," you'd answer, even when you weren't.

And that was it. The conversations stayed surface-level, neither of you daring to dig deeper, afraid of what you might unearth.

A month later, your boss called you into his office, his tone gentle but serious. You'd known this moment might come. You weren't performing at your best—how could you, when your mind was always elsewhere? But hearing him say it still hit you hard.

"You're an incredible asset, and this is not about your abilities," he said, his voice kind. "But I think your focus in entirely in a different place right now. You need to be with your family. Take the time to focus on what matters the most to you. I'll make sure you have a stellar recommendation to take with you when you're ready for the next step. I'm sorry, but I just don't see we have been improving with you."

His words were meant to reassure you, but all they did was amplify the chaos in your mind.

Now, the only thing keeping you in LA was Jenna. Yet, she was gone most of the time.

And as you sat on your couch that afternoon, the weight of that realization settled over you like a heavy fog. Was she enough to keep you here? Did the connection you shared, once so effortless and electric, still have the power to hold you together? Or was it time to let go—for her sake, for yours, for the life you had to rebuild somewhere else?

The ringing of your phone startled you out of your haze. You hadn't even noticed it was in your hand. Jenna's name lit up the screen, and for a brief moment, you considered letting it go to voicemail. But the thought of her voice, even strained through awkward tension, made you answer.

"Hey," you said softly, trying to keep the exhaustion out of your voice.

"Hey, love," Jenna replied, her tone warm and comforting. "How's your day going?"

You hesitated for a second too long. "Fine," you lied again, your voice trembling just slightly.

Thankfully, Jenna didn't seem to notice. "Good. I'm glad," she said. "I miss you."

"I miss you too," you murmured, the truth of it clawing at your chest. "When are you coming back?"

"In a couple of weeks," she said. "I'll wrap up here and come straight home. Promise."

You forced out a small hum of acknowledgment, and after a few more minutes of stilted conversation, the call ended.

The days blurred together after that. Without work to ground you, you drifted aimlessly. Most mornings you didn't even bother to get out of bed until late. Sweats and oversized hoodies became your uniform as you spent your days cycling through movies you barely watched. When your former coworkers invited you out for drinks, you declined, making some excuse about needing rest.

On the weekends, you still went to Miami to visit your mom. Her progress was slow but steady, and for the first time in months, she seemed genuinely hopeful. One evening, as you sat on the couch with her, she reached out and took your hand.

"You're not yourself," she said gently, her knowing eyes meeting yours.

"I'm just tired, Mom," you said, brushing it off.

She shook her head. "No, sweetheart. This is more than tired. What's wrong?"

You sighed, the weight of your emotions pressing down on you. "I don't know what to do. Jenna's amazing, Mom. I love her so much. But she's always gone, and I feel like I'm losing myself. She's the only reason for me to stay in LA since I no longer have my job. It's just so hard."

Your mom gave your hand a reassuring squeeze. "Jobs come and go, honey. But love like that? You might only get one chance."

Her words echoed in your mind through our the weekend, making your decision feel even harder.

Days later, back in LA, you were curled up on the couch, half-asleep under a heavy blanket, when you heard the front door open. Jenna's voice echoed out, "Home sweet home!"

You sat up groggily as she appeared in the doorway, suitcase still in hand. Her face softened as she took in the sight of you—sweats, hoodie, messy hair. "Hey," she said, her voice laced with concern.

"Hey," you replied weakly.

She dropped her suitcase and walked over, leaning down to press a kiss to your forehead. "I missed you," she said. "Why didn't you tell me you were home today?"

You swallowed hard, knowing the conversation you'd been dreading had finally come. "Jenna, we need to talk."

Her brow furrowed, but she nodded, sitting beside you. "What's going on?"

"I was fired," you said bluntly, the words tasting bitter on your tongue.

Her eyes widened, but she quickly tried to lighten the mood. "Babe, it's okay. I'll make a few calls. We'll find you another job—"

"Jenna, stop," you interrupted, your voice breaking. "It's not about that."

She froze, her eyes searching yours.

"I love you," you began, tears pooling in your eyes. "I love you so much. The connection we have... it's incredible. But I don't know if it's enough anymore."

Her face fell. "What are you talking about? Of course it's enough. We'll figure it out. We always do."

You shook your head, tears spilling over. "I'm doing this alone, Jenna. I've been doing this alone for a while now. And I'm okay with being strong, but I feel like everything is falling apart. You're never here, and I know it's hard."

"I'm trying," she said, her own voice cracking. "I'm doing everything I can to balance this—"

"I know you are," you said softly, your heart breaking with every word. "But I'm not sure I can anymore. The only reason I have to stay in LA is you, and now... I just don't know if that's enough."

Jenna's tears fell freely now. "Please, don't say that. I moved heaven and earth to get you here because I couldn't imagine my life without you. Don't give up on us. Please."

You reached out, cupping her face as your own sobs overtook you. "I'm not giving up. But maybe... maybe we need to step back. Go back to being friends, things seemed easier back then."

Her head shook furiously. "No. No, I can't do that. I can't go back to being just your friend."

You closed your eyes, pressing your forehead to hers. "I love you, Jen. But I think I need to go back to Miami. For my mom. For me. I need to figure my life out, cause honestly everything is going to shit."

She clung to you, as if holding you tighter would keep you from slipping away. "Please," she whispered, broken.

Your heart shattered as you whispered back, "I'm sorry."

And for the first time in months, you both let go.

—-
A/N: I'm sorry, guys.