22. Daphne

Chapter twenty-two

Daphne

I sit on the plush, cream-colored couch, my arms wrapped tightly around my knees. The silence of the apartment is suffocating, amplifying the emptiness that echoes within me. Alex told me he is visiting his dad tonight, and I want to believe him, but doubt gnaws at my mind. The thought of being alone in this space crushes me. All because of the letter my mom sent me.

Something’s wrong. I can sense it.

I’m probably just feeling lonely because, an hour ago, I had the crowd cheering for WU surrounding me. Yet even then, I was alone. In the VIP section, Victoria basked while Celeste practically glued herself to Alex’s side, hugging and cooing at him whenever he was near the sidelines.

Ugh. I’m just jealous; that’s what this is.

I’m jealous of my boyfriend’s ex-girlfriend.

Pathetic.

I’m trying to remain a patient girlfriend, but I’m losing my grip. Every time Alex ignores me in public is like a knife to the kidneys. Take halftime, for example. What the fuck was that? Rodge blatantly disrespected me, even called me desperate, and Alex didn’t defend me.

I can’t control him, but I can control my own actions and how I react. I’m not ready to give up on our relationship.

Again, this is exactly why I’m not telling him about my mom reaching out to me. The last thing he needs is drama from my issues. I don’t think he can emotionally handle it.

So, what can I do right now if I don’t want to put more stress on him, afraid he’ll break under the pressure like he did before?

I’m not one to give ultimatums, but I will schedule something fun for us to do in advance, expecting we’ll go together. It’ll be two-fold: a celebration of his last game and a deadline for us to move forward together. Something special to show him how proud I am.

I grab my laptop from the end table and start mindlessly searching for events near us.

Inspiration strikes as I stumble upon an ad for a cooking class with renowned Chef Moreno. It’s next month. I know Alex would be ecstatic; he’s a huge fan of Moreno’s show. In my mind, I can already see us laughing and clumsily trying out new recipes together. By then, we won’t have to hide our relationship anymore because I can’t allow the state of our relationship to continue. We’ve reached a point where he has to choose intimacy with Celeste or me.

Honestly, it feels like I’m holding onto the past a bit. But I still love him; even this version of Alex is the one that I love. The way we calm each other, the way he watches me play like he truly enjoys it. His smile, his love for family despite their complications.

Most of all, he’s resilient. So fucking resilient. More on that later.

Turning my attention back to my laptop, I scroll down the page of the cooking class to find the date and price. Unfortunately, it’s more than I can afford, but for Alex, it’s worth it.

Until I have a wild idea. I could apply for a credit card or get a part-time job. It could work. As long as it means making Alex happy.

It’s not just for him either. It’s for both of us.

A pang hits me as thoughts of Alex overcome me, oddly reminiscent of the night we both almost died. I need to see his face, even if it’s just through a photo. I reach for my phone and open Instagram. My thumb rapidly taps and scrolls, searching for him. I hate how he doesn’t follow me. I’ll bring it up in a few days. Following each other will be a good way to ease into our relationship.

Suddenly, my heart stops as pictures flood the screen. Alex, with his familiar mop of brown hair, is the center of attention in the photo. He holds a red Solo cup next to Celeste .

“Alex wouldn’t lie,” I whisper, trying to calm myself. There has to be an explanation. Plans change all the time, right? I’ll wait for him to come home and explain. He deserves that chance, at least.

My fingers remain frozen on the screen as more pictures load. There’s Alex, laughing and cozy with Celeste, her hand possessively wrapped around his bicep. My stomach twists in knots at the sight.

“Is this some kind of sick joke?” I mutter, but there’s no humor in this situation.

Not at all.

Hurt and anger pulsate through me as I read through the comments.

Alex and Celeste back together! Are we really surprised? *Happy crying emoji* “

Each comment feels like a stab to my heart. How many people think they’re back together? Are they?

Either Alex doesn’t actually like me and our relationship is just a joke between him and Victoria, or Alex doesn’t like me, but he feels obligated to date me because I saved his life when we were kids. Both explanations suck, but either way, I can’t get past the common theme between both. He doesn’t want to be with me .

It’s the only explanation that makes sense.

Please, God, don’t let it be true. The ache in my chest is a constant companion now. Every breath is a struggle, every heartbeat a reminder of the pain I’m trying to bury.

I’m back to that night.

The one where Mom shoved my head underwater and screamed how unlovable I am.

The one where I almost lost Alex forever.

I should wait for Alex to come home, let him explain himself, but who am I kidding? The truth is clear in every photo, every intimate smile they share.

“That’s it,” I declare to the vacant room. My hands shake as I snatch my car keys from the kitchen counter.

I hastily slip on my sneakers without bothering to tie them. The door slams behind me louder than intended, but honestly, who fucking cares?

As I step outside into the chilly night air, it bites at my skin, mirroring the coldness within me. A perfect match for how I feel right now.

I slide into my car and start the engine. The dashboard lights flicker on, casting eerie shadows across my trembling hands.

My destination is familiar. I know the house from the photos. It sits just off campus, where parties never seem to end. With every passing moment, it takes all of my willpower not to press down harder on the gas pedal.

“Get it together, Daphne,” I scold myself sternly. I need to stay level-headed if I want answers.

Scenes of confrontations play out in my mind, none of which end well, but I need closure, and I’ll do whatever it takes to get it.