All Chapters of Project Heartbreak: Chapter 61 - Chapter 70

Pasta was safe. But maybe too boring? A stir-fry? Could I do a stir-fry that didn’t taste like soggy soy sauce? I settled on a compromise: a simple aglio e olio pasta, and a big, colorful salad with a lemon vinaigrette. It was hard to mess up. I typed garlic, lemons, fresh parsley, good olive oil, and a nice block of parmesan to the list. For the salad: mixed greens, cherry tomatoes, a cucumber, a red onion, and bread. Good, crusty bread to soak up the garlic oil.List complete, I looked around the apartment. It wasn’t filthy, but it was messy. Orhan’s sports socks were a sad lump under the table. My medical journals formed a leaning tower on the coffee table. The counters had a fine layer of dust. Jax had said not to clean too hard, but I couldn’t have him in a pigsty.I spent the next hour cleaning. I vacuumed, dusted, wiped down every surface, even the inside of the microwave. I rearranged the books on the shelf, fluffed the cushions, and hid Orhan’s socks in the laundry hamper wit

He dipped his index finger into the soft, melted caramel swirl at the edge of the carton. My eyes tracked the movement, a split-second of confusion overriding everything else.Then, with deliberate, tantalizing slowness, he brought that cold, slick finger to my lips. He paused, his gaze locked on mine. My breath hitched, caught somewhere between my throat and my lungs.He smeared the ice cream across my bottom lip, the chill a shocking contrast to the heat of my skin, to the heat of his gaze. A tiny, startled sound escaped me. He dragged his finger down, over the curve of my chin, leaving a cold, sticky trail in its wake.I was frozen, utterly shocked by the sudden, intimate act. It was childish, but it was unbearably hot.“I am,” he whispered, “going to do so much worse.”Then he closed the distance.His tongue was hot and wicked as it flicked out, catching the dollop of ice cream on my chin first. A soft, wet lap that sent a jolt straight to my core. He made a low, appreciative hum

The old bitterness, long since faded to a scar, tinged Jax’s voice. “It made me furious. Like something was being stolen from me that I hadn’t even had a chance to claim. All those insults, the threats, the bullying… Elliot, I am so sorry. It was never about you being a ‘pervert’ or a ‘freak’. It was me being jealous and psychotic. I’d fallen first, and I’d fallen hard, and I had absolutely no idea how to handle it except to try and smash the feeling, and you, into pieces.”The silence that followed was absolute and profound. My mind reeling, two timelines crashing together. My own memory of fear and confusion, and this new, startling tapestry Jax was weaving from his own perspective.“You…” I whispered, the word barely audible. “All of that… because of a crush? A crush you had on me?”“Not a crush,” Jax corrected, his voice dropping to a raw, vulnerable rasp. He leaned down, his forehead gently touching mine. “It was never just a crush. It was an obsession. A sickness. You were under

I was dozing off. It was a very long shift. I was in the changing room, finally on a break. My head was leaning against the cool metal of the locker, eyes closed. Just trying to exist without thinking for five minutes.That’s when I heard a couple of other interns, guys from a different rotation, came in, their voices loud and buzzing with a gossipy energy that felt alien in this space of pure exhaustion.“—fucking obvious, man. I’m telling you.”“No way. How?”“Look at the guy! The face, the attitude, the whole vibe. That’s not the face of a choirboy. That’s the face of a guy who’s been getting away with shit since he was in diapers. Textbook fuckboy.”“Okay, yeah, when you put it like that…”“And now this? Please. Zero surprise. Absolute zero.”“He must have a string of hookups a mile long. Bet he doesn’t even remember half their names.”“Bet the teacher wasn’t the first, either. Probably banged his way through the entire cheer squad. Coach’s wife is just… leveling up.”My eyes snap

Maria sank onto the living room couch, looking small and lost, already pulling her scarf off with trembling hands.My mom gave my arm a slight tug, leading me into the kitchen. She filled a glass of water at the sink, her movements deliberate. “Elliot,” she said, not looking at me. “Are you alright?”“I’m perfectly fine, Mom,” I said, the words coming out too fast. “Nothing’s wrong. Just… take care of Maria, okay? Until this all calms down. I’ll explain everything after. I promise.”She finally turned, her eyes searching my face. She saw the lie, she always did, but she also saw the wall. The one I’d built right back up. After a moment, she nodded, a slow, weary acceptance. “Okay.” She hesitated, her gaze dropping to the glass in her hands. “How is... Orhan?”“He’s fine. He’s safe in Bluewhale. Don’t worry about him.” It was the truth, and it seemed to give her a sliver of comfort. She gave another nod and carried the water out to Maria.I stayed in the kitchen, leaning against the co