You Loved My Words Not Him Chapter 2

My eyes snapped open, every trace of sleep instantly vanishing.

I glanced over at Zachary’s empty mattress, threw off my blankets, and scrambled out of bed. Part of me wanted to run to the mirror and make myself presentable, but the panic of keeping her waiting won out. I grabbed a black face mask, threw on a heavy winter coat to hide my rumpled clothes, and hurried down the stairs.

During that brief descent, a dozen desperate hopes raced through my mind. Maybe she had realized that Zachary's personality didn't match the texts at all. Maybe she had figured out the truth, and she was here to apologize...

"Jude."

A cool, beautiful voice called out.

I tried to steady my breathing, keeping my eyes downcast. I looked at the silver bracelet on her wrist—the one we had spent three hours choosing together over text. I gave a quiet, muffled, "Yeah?"

"What is it that you want?" Serena asked.

I jerked my head up, staring at her through my glasses.

Serena was completely expressionless, her gaze distant and cold.

"Zachary was crying last night. Because of you. I don't know when you first noticed me, or when you decided you had a crush on me—" She took a slow, deep breath, her brow furrowed in a tight line of irritation. She looked at me with a cold, impatient disdain she’d never once shown in her messages. "But let me make one thing entirely clear: Zachary is my boyfriend. That is my choice, and it isn't going to change. Not now, not ever. So I don't want you taking your frustrations out on him. Do you understand?"

Tears stung the backs of my eyes, blurring her cold silhouette. I dug my fingernails into my palms and forced the words past the lump in my throat.

"The person you talked to every night... that was me, Serena. It was always me."

A harsh, mocking laugh cut through the cold morning air.

"Zachary warned me about you. He said you were desperate enough to try this. He said you'd lie and claim his words as your own just to get to me." Serena’s gaze turned to pure disgust, sharp and unyielding. "So let me tell you this, Jude: even if it [had[ been you behind those messages, I still wouldn't want you. I want Zachary."

The words felt like a physical blow. I stood there, feeling incredibly small, and let out a quiet, self-deprecating laugh. I reached down, unclasped the matching silver bracelet from my own wrist, and let it slip through my fingers. It hit the pavement with a dull, hollow clink.

As I turned my back on her, I heard her voice soften with a sudden, tense hesitation.

"Jude—"