Friends

Chapter 35

A/N: Chapters 36-63 are on Patreon along with other exclusive content if you want to check those out!

Jasmine's POV:

We don't need to be laughing right now. This is serious. This isn't something he can just joke away—because the humor, as much as he wants to hide behind it, can only take me so far. But then again, we're just friends. We've made it very clear that I have a lot of things to work on before being in a serious relationship. Maybe this is my karma. Maybe this is the universe punishing me for being so stupid, so stuck on my ex for years. I have no right to feel the way I do. I have no right to be angry.

Yes, this is a date, but also, we're just friends. It's nothing like that. If he wants to talk to other girls, he can. He should.

I should be okay with that. I should be able to accept it without spiraling. But why does it feel like everything is slipping away? Like I'm just waiting for him to realize that he could do better. I could never be the one he chooses, not when there's someone like her. Maria.

I watched Maria laugh and flirt, and something tightened in my chest. Wait, that's it. It's like the same feeling I had with Kendrick every time he would drift away, every time I wasn't his first choice, every time I watched him fall for someone else. Kendrick always chose other women over me, always made me feel like I wasn't enough. Like I was an afterthought. And maybe that's why I'm feeling this now. Because deep down, I still believe that no matter how much I try, no matter how much I want it to be different, I'll never be the one they choose.

I try to tell myself that it doesn't matter. I remind myself that I'm fine. That I've been through worse. But at this moment, I feel small. Not enough. I'm just a girl, standing in front of a guy, trying to convince myself that I matter, that I'm worthy of being seen, of being chosen. But I'm so tired of hoping. Tired of praying that maybe, just maybe, one day I'll be enough for someone who already has their heart set on someone else.

I don't want to feel this way. I'm tired of feeling like I'm not enough. But I don't know how to stop.

Suddenly, I feel Marc's arm leave my waist, and I snap out of my thoughts. "I'll be right back," he says, letting go of my hands and standing up. I watch him walk away, and I can already feel that familiar knot in my stomach.

The feeling comes back again—the weight of doubt. It doesn't even make sense. I'm supposed to be strong. I've been working on myself. I've been trying to grow.

So why does it always feel like I'm still that same girl? The one who's afraid of being abandoned, of being forgotten, of being... invisible?

If I'm being honest, I don't know what's worse: meeting Marc's first love and realizing they are literally the same person—or the fact that she's right here, marking her territory in front of me. Watching her flirt, hearing her laugh... feeling like I don't even exist in this moment.

And Marc? He doesn't even seem to notice. Or maybe he doesn't care. He's probably telling her, back in the kitchen, that she should be nice to me, all while she laughs and jokes about how much history they have. And I just want to scream. Why do I always have to be the one to shrink? Why can't I be the one who's enough?

I just wanted it to be my turn. For once.

But no. I've spent so much of my life bending over backward for people who never saw me for who I really was, who never made me a priority. I'm so tired.

Jasmine, stop. This isn't the way you want to think. You're not that girl anymore. You're changing. You're doing better.

I hear my therapist's voice in my head, soft but stern: "If you want to meet a man who only has eyes for you, stop talking to men who don't. Your actions need to align with what you say."

She's right.

Why am I still here? Why am I trying to force someone to choose me when I should be choosing myself? If I keep making the same mistakes I did with Kendrick, I'm going to be stuck here as an option for who knows how long. What am I saying, we're just friends, I need to calm down. No, even as a friend he shouldn't let her disrespect me like that.

I can't change what's already happened. I can't go back and undo the mistakes. But I can walk away. I can leave. I can stop settling.

So why am I still sitting here? Because I'm afraid of being alone. Afraid of never finding someone who sees me.

No. Not anymore. I'm done. I'm going to leave.

As I stand up, gathering my things, I feel a sudden pressure in my chest, like I can't breathe. Maybe this is just my anxiety talking, the voice that always tells me I'm not good enough. Maybe it's telling me that walking out the door is a mistake, that I'll regret it. But maybe it's not. Maybe walking away is the best thing I could do right now.

Before I can take another step, a voice stops me.

"Excuse me, are you Jasmine?" a man asks. I turn to see him approaching me. He's wearing a uniform and has the kindest smile, which catches me off guard.

He pauses a few feet from me. "Yes, I am," I reply, trying to steady my breath.

"Nice to meet you. I'm Matthew, the general manager of the restaurant. I want to apologize for the inconvenience, and I want you to know that from now on, I'll be your server. I don't know if Marcqwuan told you this, but he's been one of our most loyal customers for years. We've become close, and any friend of his is a friend of mine. I hope you'll allow me to make it up to you—everything is on the house today. Please, have a seat."

My head spins. Did he just tell Maria to leave? I'm trying to process this, but my heart is still beating in overdrive. It doesn't matter, I tell myself. I don't want to stay and play this game anymore.

But Marc isn't here yet. Where is he?

"Where's Marc?" I ask, my voice more sharp than I meant.

As soon as the words leave my mouth, I see him coming toward me, holding two massive drinks. The closer he gets, the more I feel the weight of my emotions sink into my chest, tight and almost painful.

"Listen, I know this is gonna sound very stereotypical of me," Marc says, a mischievous grin on his face, "but watermelon margaritas are my favorite, and this restaurant makes the best. So I got one for me, and I got one for you." he says, swerving through the line of people.

I feel my lips curl into a reluctant smile. "You don't even know if I like watermelon-flavored things. What if I don't like it?" I question him while he nudges me back to my side of the booth. He sits right next to me like he did before.

"Respectfully, the odds of you not liking watermelon are very low," he says with a wink. "It was an educated guess. But if you don't like it, more for me. Your loss."

"Oh, so you just expected me to fit the stereotype, too?" I can't help but chuckle. He's trying. He's trying to make me feel better, and for a moment, I almost forget about the ache in my chest.

"There's no way I'm going to be able to finish all of this," I admit, grabbing one of the drinks that I need two hands to hold. "I'm a huge lightweight."

"So am I, but also not really," Marc says. "It's weird. I have a fast metabolism, so I get drunk fast, but I sober up just as quickly. I'll probably be drunk halfway through, but then I'll be good again. It's a cycle."

That makes me laugh. And for a moment, I feel the weight on my shoulders ease. Maybe it's not the worst thing to just let go and enjoy the moment.

"Matthew, this means the world to me. Thank you for looking out for us." Marc says, turning to look at him with a smile.

"Sure thing, Marc. You ready to order?" Matthew asks, nodding.

Marc turns to me. "I'll have the usual, and give Jasmine this month's special. She's gonna love it."

"No problem," Matthew says, taking the menus and walking away.

I turn back to Marc, feeling more conflicted than I ever have before.

"I'm just gonna go ahead and address the elephant in the room," he says, his light aura turns into a more serious demeanor as I see the smile leave his face.