chapter 12: When suspicion returns

The day started like any other. The campus buzzed around us, but I couldn’t hear it. My thoughts were louder than the chatter of hundreds of students.

I walked beside Josh, pretending to laugh at something he said. But inside, anger simmered. A slow, quiet heat that had been sleeping for weeks — now awake.

He checked his phone. Again. And again. His thumb hovered over the screen like it held secrets meant to exclude me. My chest tightened. My hands curled into fists inside my bag.

“Are you even paying attention?” I snapped.

He blinked. “I… what?”

“You!” I said, my voice sharp enough to turn heads. “You think I don’t notice? That I’m blind to the way you check your phone, hide messages, and act like everything’s fine?”

He opened his mouth, but I didn’t let him speak.

“I’m angry, Josh! Angry that you think I would sit quietly while you play with my trust. Angry that you smile at me like nothing happened, while I know better!” My chest heaved. I poured out everything I had held inside — the hurt, the fear, the quiet suspicion that had been eating me alive.

“You have no idea how it feels to love someone and realize they’re only giving pieces of themselves to you. And you? You think words like ‘I miss you’ can fix what your actions already broke!”

His hands twitched, his lips parted, but he stayed silent.

“I can feel it, Josh!” I continued, my voice trembling between anger and heartbreak. “I can feel the distance, the hiding, the secrets. And I am so tired of pretending I don’t! I trusted you — I still do, somehow — but I am done being careful around a person who is careless with my heart!”

He finally took a step closer. “I — I didn’t mean to hurt you…”

“You didn’t mean to?” I laughed bitterly. “Meaning doesn’t erase what’s already done! You think an apology can mend everything? I want to see honesty. I want to see truth! Not empty words and hidden texts!”

I poured all of myself into that moment. My anger. My pain. My love. Everything that had been simmering under the surface. For the first time in weeks, I let it all out.

He stayed silent, listening. No excuses, no lies. Just stillness.

That quiet, mama, was louder than anything he could have said.

“I am not asking for perfection,” I whispered finally, voice low but firm. “I’m asking for a part of you that actually respects me. That cares for me. That is mine — and only mine — when it should be.”

He nodded slowly, guilt heavy in his eyes. “I… I know.”

“And I hope you do,” I said, my anger fading into a quiet ache. “Because if you don’t, this… this won’t survive.”

He nodded slowly, guilt heavy in his eyes. “I… I know.”

“And I hope you do,” I said, my anger fading into a quiet ache.

“But know this, Josh,” I whispered, my voice cracking slightly, “I am tired. Tired of hiding my hurt, tired of pretending your half-truths are enough, tired of loving someone who leaves pieces of me bleeding in silence.”

I took a step back, my hands shaking. “I have given you everything I had — my trust, my heart, my time… and for what? To watch you play with it, like it doesn’t matter? You’ve never truly held me, Josh. Not fully. Not completely. And maybe you never will.”

I swallowed hard, my chest tight. “I’m standing here, loving you, and it kills me to know that part of you is always somewhere else. Somewhere I can’t reach.”

My throat burned. Tears threatened, but I fought them back. My anger roared quietly under the surface, sharp and bitter.

“Maybe one day,” I said, voice trembling, “you’ll understand what it means to break someone gently instead of carelessly. Maybe. But I… I can’t keep doing this and pretending it’s not slowly tearing me apart.”

I turned away, my back stiff, my heart raw. For the first time in weeks, I let the silence scream louder than my voice ever could.

Because love had already hurt me once, and now, my own chest felt like it was splitting from the weight of knowing… even if he tried, it might never be enough.