Jenna Ortega Imagines (2)

Almost - J.O

2nd Person POV:

The thing about falling out of love is that it doesn't happen all at once.

It happens slowly. Quietly. Like a candle that keeps flickering no matter how many times you whisper it back to life.

You knew Jenna was slipping away long before she said anything.

You felt it in the way her hugs stopped lingering, the way her eyes drifted to her phone instead of your face, the way her laugh started sounding rehearsed.

You told yourself you were imagining it.

You weren't.

It was a Thursday night when the silence between you finally broke. You were sitting on the couch, some half-watched movie playing just to fill the air. Jenna was beside you, knees drawn to her chest, her phone glowing soft blue against her skin.

"Who are you texting?" You asked, your voice small. You didn't mean for it to sound jealous, but it did.

She hesitated, then locked her screen. "Just a friend."

You nodded slowly. "Right. A friend."

The words hung between you, heavy and sharp. You wanted her to say your name, to look at you the way she used to. Instead, she just sighed and leaned back against the cushion, her body angled away from yours.

You stared at her profile—the slope of her nose, the faint scar on her jaw from when she tripped filming Wednesday. You knew her better than anyone. But tonight, she felt like a stranger in your living room.

"Jenna." You said quietly. "Do you still love me?"

Her head turned then, and for the briefest second, you saw the girl you fell in love with—the one who laughed in the rain, who used to make you pancakes at midnight just because she couldn't sleep. But the look faded almost immediately, replaced by something softer. Sadder.

"I don't know." She whispered.

That broke you. Not the words themselves, but the honesty in them.

You nodded slowly, blinking fast. "Okay."

"I didn't mean for it to happen." She continued, her voice cracking. "I swear. I've been trying, I just... it feels different now. And I hate that it does."

Your chest tightened. You didn't want her to apologize. You wanted her to feel. To fight for this the way you had. But all she did was stare at her hands like she was already mourning something she'd buried months ago.

"So what are you saying?" You managed to ask.

She swallowed hard. "I think we need time apart."

You bit the inside of your cheek, tasting blood. "Time apart or done?"

Her eyes flicked up to meet yours, glossy and tired. "Maybe both."

That was it. The sentence that split your world in half.

You didn't cry, not yet. You just nodded like you understood, even though every part of you screamed. "Okay." You whispered again, because it was the only word that didn't tremble.

She got up from the couch slowly, her movements uncertain. You watched as she picked up her jacket from the hook by the door—the same one you bought together on that road trip to Big Bear. The same one she once wrapped around your shoulders when you got cold.

"Can I still call you?" She asked, her voice small.

You wanted to laugh, or maybe scream. Instead, you just said, "Yeah."

Because you knew she wouldn't.

When the door closed behind her, the quiet hit you like a wave. The apartment suddenly felt too big, too hollow. Her mug still sat on the counter. Her favorite blanket still lay across the couch. Everything was the same—except she wasn't there anymore.

You sat there for hours, staring at the dent in the pillow where she'd been. The movie kept playing, but you didn't notice when it ended.

At some point, your phone buzzed. You grabbed it too fast, heart leaping before you saw the name.

It wasn't her.

You put it down and pressed your palms to your eyes until the world blurred into noise.

-

The next few weeks passed like smoke.
You saw her online sometimes—photos, interviews, fan edits of her smiling like she hadn't just torn you apart. You told yourself she was just doing her job.

But every time her face appeared, it felt like a paper cut reopening. Small, but constant.

You didn't unfollow her. You couldn't. That would've felt like deleting proof that what you had was ever real.

Then one night, months later, you ran into her.

You were at some low-key music event downtown, your friends dragging you out because they said you needed to breathe again. And there she was—standing by the bar, hair shorter now, laugh brighter.

She looked happy.

When her eyes met yours across the room, time stopped. You both froze, a hundred memories flickering between you in an instant. She smiled faintly, hesitant, and before you could think twice, you walked over.

"Hey." She said softly.

"Hey." You echoed, heart pounding.

You made small talk. About work. About the city. About everything except what mattered. The tension sat between you like a ghost neither of you could name.

And then she said it—quietly, like she almost didn't mean to. "I miss you."

You swallowed hard. "Do you really, or do you just miss what we were?"

Her eyes darted away, guilt flickering across her face. "I don't know."

You nodded. "Yeah. Me neither."

There was a long silence.

She reached for your hand like she used to, fingers barely brushing yours. You wanted to pull away. You didn't.

"It was real, right?" She whispered. "Even if it's gone now?"

You looked at her—at the girl who used to be your whole world—and felt your heart ache in a way that wasn't quite pain anymore. Just an echo.

"It was real." You said softly. "That's what makes it hurt."

She blinked fast, like she wanted to cry but wouldn't let herself. "I thought I'd moved on."

"So did I."

You both laughed then, a sad, broken sound that dissolved into silence.

And in that silence, you realized something: love doesn't end. It just changes shape.

Sometimes it becomes memory.

Sometimes it becomes distance.

When you left that night, you didn't look back.
And neither did she.

But as you walked home under the city lights, you caught yourself whispering the same word over and over again—"Almost."

Because that's what you and Jenna would always be.

Almost everything.

Almost forever.

Almost enough.

—————
A/N: sorry for the brick 🧱 thrown at y'all 🚶🏻