two

Hailey's POV

I gape at them, my mouth opening and closing, words escaping me. 

My best friend since I was five sits naked on my bed, wearing a smug grin like this is all some joke. 

My boyfriend is cheating on me with my best friend. 

The image won’t stop replaying in my mind.

"Y—you?"I choke out, the words catching in my throat. "Why would you do this to me?" 

I look between them. "Jake? Why?" I whisper, my voice disbelieving. "After everything, you decide to cheat on me with my best friend?"

Jake stands, pulling a sheet around his waist as he walks toward me. There's a fake concern on his face, but his eyes are cold.

He reaches for my face, and I step back. "I didn't cheat on you, baby."

My tear-filled eyes snap to his, and I immediately hate the flicker of hope that rises inside me, even when I know better than to believe. 

"Really?" My voice shakes. "I just caught you naked in bed with my best friend, and you’re telling me that’s not cheating?"

"It was just head, Hailey," he says in a patronizing voice. "That's not cheating. I didn't even fuck her. I couldn't do that to you." 

Charlotte snorts behind him and walks over, wrapping her arms around him from behind. "No need to keep pretending, Jake. She's not that dumb." 

Jake chuckles, his facade breaking. "You gonna tell her, or should I?"

Charlotte steps beside him and he slips his arm around her, kissing the top of her head with obvious affection. "We’ve been together for months," she says, her voice dripping with pride. "Even before you two got together." 

  She smirks at me. "You just had to always get in the way. You were always so desperate for his attention. We let you think you had it... just to see how far you'd go."

  I turn to Jake. "Is that true?"

  He rolls his eyes. "What do you think? It was all pity. You should be grateful I was able to fake it for this long. Do you know how unbearable you are?"

My whole relationship had been a perfectly orchestrated lie by my best friend. Just a sick game for them. 

I stumble back, my head spinning from the realization. 

  "I hate you, Hailey," Charlotte sneers, venom dripping from her tone. "I would go any length to see you suffer. You always thought you had it all. Always trying to rub your perfect life in my face. You have no idea how satisfying seeing you heartbroken is."

  I shake my head. "Char... I never tried to show off. I wanted to include you in everything because I love—I loved you. I didn't just see you as a friend but as a sister, too."

  "Stop lying!" She shrieks, suddenly shoving me. I stumble back, not prepared for the encounter, but I manage to stay upright. "You hated me! You always did." 

Her eyes are wild, a strange mix of triumph and something else—something that looks almost like pain.

For a split second, I see the sweet girl I met in kindergarten. But it’s gone just as fast. 

She hates me. Did she ever love me or consider me a friend? Did Jake ever love me?

"Why?" I whisper, my voice weak. "Why go through all this? You could’ve just told me you liked him."

 "And miss your reaction when you walked in on us? Where's the fun in that?" Charlotte tilts her head with a pout. "We wanted to see the golden moment when you found out we're in love. Couldn't miss that for the world, right, Jakey?"

"Wanted to see your perfect little world fall apart," Jake adds casually. 

Jakey. 

The nickname makes my stomach churn.

I shake my head, disbelieving. "You don't know what you're saying." I turn to Jake, desperate. "Tell her she doesn't know what she's saying! You love me. You've always loved me!" 

His face hardens. "Stop being pathetic, Hailey. I'm in love with Charlotte. I always have been." 

Words he never said to me. Not once. Even when we got intimate and I told him, he never said it back. I always thought that it was because he was still coming around to it, but I guess not. 

I open my mouth to say something—anything. But the words die in my throat, a strangled sob escaping instead. 

I reach for him, like that might make this all go away. But he recoils, like my touch burns. "I never loved you. It was always Charlotte," he says slowly and deliberately, each word feeling like a knife being plunged into my chest. "We weren't going to tell you... at least not yet," he adds. "But honestly, it was getting sad. You really thought any of this was real?"

"We only kept you around for your daddy's money," Charlotte says. "He's always so generous, sending more than you need. We couldn't let you waste all that money alone, could we? We're not as selfish as you are, which is why we stayed around to help out." 

Jake laughs beside her, the sound only sealing the fact. 

Chest aches. My hands shake, tears blurring my vision. It's all too much to take. But she isn't done yet. 

"Too bad you found had to find out already. We were really counting on the money your daddy was going to send after your little job interview tanked," Charlotte continues, fake-pouting. "That deposit was supposed to cover our weekend getaway. We already had everything planned out. It was supposed to be fun and perfect, but you just had to ruin it."

I blink, realization dawning. "You took the documents from my folder."

"Oh goody!" Charlotte claps, letting out a delighted laugh. "You figured that out yourself. I was thinking you'd need us to spell that part out, too."

 My knees buckle and I crash to the floor, sobs wracking my body. "You're lying. Tell me you're lying." 

I try to hold on to the belief that my presence in their lives isn't just because of my money. That the only people that mattered to me outside my family weren't just using me. 

But their faces say it all. 

Jake lets out a harsh chuckle. "What more do you want? Charlotte’s already told you everything."

He clicks his teeth. "Anyway, we were busy before you interrupted. And honestly, I don’t care to keep watching you fall apart."

He takes Charlotte’s hand and pulls her back toward the bed. She blows me a kiss over her shoulder, giggling.

They don’t even care that I’m still here. They go right back to making out—right in front of me.

I sit frozen, watching through blurred vision as my world disintegrates. Then, slowly, I gather what I can, wipe my face, and walk out, slamming the door behind me. 

But not before leaving something small in the bathroom drawer—something I hope will be enough to make Jake regret everything he did to me.

  ... 

  I sit in the club's bar, slowly downing my third bottle of wine. The effects have already started kicking in, and I already feel tipsy.

  I'm not one to drink often, but I do when it's needed. Like now, for example. I tried to be strong for a few hours after arriving at the hotel I lodged in, but eventually, the hurt hit hard. So I took the best option for a distraction; drinking myself senseless. 

I'm officially all alone in this city. The only friend I managed to keep in all my life, betrayed me with my boyfriend. 

I order another drink. Three shots of vodka, this time. I need something stronger to help me forget.

  "Another," I tell the bartender. 

  He gives me a wry look and ignores me. 

  Is he judging me?

  "Hey! Bartender," I slur. "Aren't you hearing me? Bring me three more shots!"

  He still pretends not to hear, and it pisses me off. I click my teeth. "You are so disrespectful," I drawl, pointing at him dazedly, twirling my fingers in a circle. "I'm gonna... I'm gonna report you to your manager."

  A look of fear flashes across the bartender's features. Yet, he doesn't budge. "Look. You fucking cu-"

  I stop speaking, momentarily distracted by a strong, masculine hand settling around my waist.

  "Why's such a pretty lady drinking alone?" a deep, drawling voice asks, sliding into the stool next to me. 

  The bartender takes the distraction as an opportunity to leave. 

  The man's voice spreads a chill crawling down my spine that makes me tense up. Alarm signals start going off in my head. I turn to him, a frown etching itself onto my face. "It's none of your business, okay?"

  A smirk twists his lips, a predatory curl. He leans in, the stench of cheap whiskey and cigarettes on him making my stomach churn. "When it concerns a pretty thing like you? Definitely my business."

  The buzz of the wine starts fading, my heightened senses making my consciousness clear up. "Go away," I groan, waving my hand dismissively, too weak to push him off.

  The man does not take it kindly, his grip tightening around my waist in a manner that makes me stiffen. "Stop trying to be stubborn, baby," he growls, his breath hot in my ear. 

  Disgusting. 

  "I know your type," he slurs, invading my personal space, his foul smell filling my nostrils. "Come here looking for a quick shag, then pretend to be all innocent. You're nothing but a fucking whore." 

  Is no one seeing this?

  "I assure you, I'm gonna fuck that attitude out of you, you little slut."

  A surge of anger pushes through my fear. I shove him away, stumbling off the stool. "Can't you take a hint? I said no," I manage, my voice trembling but firm. 

  I snatch my half-empty bottle of wine and flee, the music from the club fading behind me. So much for wanting to drink away my sorrows. 

  The streetlights cast long, distorted shadows on the pavement, in a manner that makes me uneasy. I've never been a fan of late nights. Instead of ordering an Uber, I brave it, walking my way to the hotel, just a few blocks away from the club. 

  Footsteps echo closely behind me. My heart hammers against my chest, as I get the feeling I'm being followed. 

  I fumble my bag, looking for the pepper spray I always carry around. I don't find it. 

Shit. 

My eyes dart around frantically as I quicken my pace, clutching my bag tightly. The footsteps grow louder as the person approaches me. "Look," I call out into the space, my voice tight with fear. "I don't have anything. Just leave me alone."

  "Babygirl," The familiar, revolting voice of the man from the club echoes through the night. I whirl around, a knot forming in my gut. "You didn't think I would let you go, did you?"