Chapter 7

7

ALASKA

Carol Of The Bells - Halocene, Sershen&Zaritkaya

I ’m sitting in the corner of the couch, fingers clenched tight around the steaming mug in my hands. The coffee smells rich, delicious, and although I’ve been holding it for at least ten minutes, I have yet to even taste it. I can’t stop staring at Mark’s phone on the table. He’s in the shower now, the sound of water pounding in the bathroom loud enough to cover my thoughts. But not my suspicions. I should feel guilty for even thinking about going through his phone, but I don’t.

Not anymore.

This nagging feeling has been with me for weeks. Maybe longer. It’s the way he’s constantly checking his phone, the smile that slips onto his face when he thinks I’m not looking. The late-night “work” calls, the last-minute changes in plans. Something’s wrong. I’ve felt it creeping under my skin, clawing at the back of my mind every time he looks at me with that distant gaze, like I’m not enough.

And sure, I get it. He’s a good looking guy. Great job, comes from a good family, he could have any girl he wanted. He’s way out of my league. I’ve always known that. I’ll never be one of those petite girls who can fit her tits in all the cute designer clothes, but that never used to bother him.

He used to love that I was different. That I had curves, and would pick a burger or steak over a goddamn salad.

Used to.

I glance toward the bathroom door, hearing the sound of the showerhead spraying hard against the tiles. Mark’s shadow moves behind the frosted glass. He won’t be out for a while. My pulse quickens, and I tell myself it’s just a check. Just a quick look to put my mind at ease.

But that’s a lie.

I reach for the phone, my fingers trembling as I unlock it. For a second, I consider backing out, closing the screen and pretending I never even picked it up. But something in me won’t let go. I swipe through the messages, each one innocent enough until I find her name.

I freeze.

The messages are... explicit. Photos, texts, things Mark has never said to me, things I never knew he could say. My chest tightens, and my breath becomes shallow. He’s been talking to her for weeks—no, months. They’ve been meeting up, planning things, making a mockery of everything I thought the two of us shared.

Rage, cold and hard, grips my heart. It’s like a switch flipped inside of me, one I can’t control. I slam his phone down onto the table, the screen cracking under the force, but I don’t give a shit. The sound of shattering glass echoes louder in my head than it does in the cabin. I stand up, the fury twisting inside my gut like a serpent ready to strike.

The bathroom door creaks open and Mark steps out, towel wrapped around his waist, his hair dripping water onto the floor. He looks at me, his usual cocky grin in place as if nothing has changed. But it has. Everything has.

“What the hell is wrong with you?” I spit, the venom in my voice surprising even me.

His eyes narrow, confused. “What are you talking about?”

I snatch the phone off the table and hurl it at him. It hits his chest, and falls to the floor at his feet. “Do you seriously think I’m stupid? Did you think I wouldn’t find out?”

Mark used to be different. We used to be different. There was a time when he genuinely cared about me, when he’d look at me like I was the center of his universe. I remember those early days—laughing together, planning a future that felt so full of promise. He used to listen, really listen, and I never doubted that he loved me. We hated the world of greed, money, and manipulation, the type of people who let power go to their heads. It was us against them. But somewhere along the way, Mark changed. The money, the power—it all twisted him into the very thing we despised. Now, as he stares at his phone, his eyes flicking up to meet mine, there’s no sign of that guy anymore. There’s no shame, no regret.

Only irritation.

His expression shifts from confusion to cold indifference as he sighs and rolls his eyes. “Oh, this again,” he says, his voice dripping with condescension. “You’re overreacting, Alaska.”

“Overreacting?” I scream, my body trembling. “I saw everything. The messages, the pictures, all of it. How could you?—”

Mark cuts me off, stepping closer. “You’re being ridiculous,” he says, his tone flat and dismissive. “You’re always so fucking dramatic.”

The way he looks at me makes my skin crawl. His eyes, once warm and full of love, are now void of any real emotion. I feel the fury bubbling inside me, a mix of disgust and heartbreak I can’t hold in anymore.

“Don’t you dare try to gaslight me!” I yell. “You’ve been cheating on me for months, lying to my face, making me feel like I’m not good enough, while the whole fucking time I’ve been trying to fix this. Fix us. ” My voice cracks on the last word, the weight of my words hitting me.

Mark crosses his arms, his jaw tightening in that infuriating way he does when he’s about to say something cruel. “Yeah, well, maybe if you weren’t so goddamn clingy and actually put out more often, maybe I wouldn’t have to find someone else.”

That hits like a punch to the gut. My breath catches in my throat, and for a moment, I feel like I’m drowning in my own rage. How could he say that? After everything we’ve been through, after everything I tried to hold onto? This is how he blames me?

“You son of a bitch,” I mutter, my voice low and shaking with barely contained fury. “Maybe if you weren’t such a manipulative, narcissistic asshole, I wouldn’t be turned off by the sight of you. Then, maybe I’d actually enjoy fucking you instead of it being a goddamn chore. Get out. Get the fuck out of this cabin. I never want to see you again.”

For a brief moment, I expect him to storm out, to leave like he used to when we’d fight back in the early days, when we still had a chance to salvage what we were. But instead, Mark steps closer, his eyes darkening in a way that sends chills down my spine. The man I once loved is gone, replaced by this cold, cruel stranger.

He grabs my arm, pulling me hard enough that I stumble forward. The shock of his sudden aggression makes my head spin, but more than that, it solidifies the truth I’ve been denying for months. He’s gone, completely and irreparably.

“Don’t tell me what to do,” he snarls, his face inches from mine. “We both know I paid for this fucking waste of time trip anyway. Besides, you have no one else but me. God, you’re pathetic, Alaska. You really think anyone else would want you? I was doing you a favor by staying this long.”

His words sting like salt in a wound, each one cutting deeper than the last. But the pain quickly morphs into anger—an uncontrollable fury that burns hotter than anything I’ve ever felt. How did we get here? How did he get here?

I try to pull away, but his grip tightens, fingers digging painfully into my skin. “Let go of me!” I shout, shoving him back as hard as I can.

Mark stumbles, but it only seems to enrage him more. His eyes flash with anger, and before I can react, he shoves me. Hard.

I hit the wall with a thud, pain exploding in my shoulder. Tears sting my eyes, but they aren’t from the physical pain—it’s the betrayal, the realization that Mark was never who I thought he was. The man who once adored me, who fought against becoming this power-hungry version of himself, is dead. And in his place stands someone who never cared.

“I’m done with you,” he spits, his voice dripping with venom. “I’m done with all of this.”

He turns and storms out of the cabin, slamming the door behind him. The cold air rushes in, but it’s nothing compared to the icy rage swirling in my chest. My entire body is shaking—anger, frustration, and sadness blending into something raw, something dangerous.

I sink to the floor, my hands trembling, my breath coming in ragged gasps. Tears finally spill down my cheeks, but they aren’t tears of sadness. They’re tears of fury. Of frustration. Of betrayal.

I thought I could be enough. I thought I could make him love me again. But all I was to him was an afterthought, a convenience he could toss aside whenever he wanted. The memories of the man he used to be are shattered, replaced by this heartless version who only cares about his status, his image, his fucking power.

The silence in the cabin is deafening. I sit there for what feels like hours, my mind racing, my heart shattering piece by piece. The version of Mark I loved is dead. He’s been dead for a long time—I just refused to see it.

But somewhere deep inside me, there’s a new feeling taking root. Something darker. Stronger.

Mark won’t get away with this.