(Henry's POV – Present Day)
I stare at the eviction notice in my hand like maybe if I crumple it, it'll go away.
Fifth month in a row I've been late. The rent grace period's gone. Trina's "friends" stopped lending us money. And I haven't heard from my parents in two weeks—not since they found out about Angelique.
Not since I sat through a brutal video call while they asked me, "How long were you planning to keep your own child a secret?"
I had no answer. Still don't.
The apartment is cold. Half-packed boxes sit in the corner, though I have no idea where I'm even moving to. Trina's in the shower, humming off-key to some pop song she probably played for Paul last night when she thought I wasn't listening.
I don't know why I picked up her phone.181Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡZs7jZKON8E
Maybe because she laughed a little too hard when his name popped up.181Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡO6lM8tc4Q6
Maybe because I already knew and just needed proof.
And there it was.181Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡ6374M2wSTD
Buried under heart emojis and pet names.
"You leaving him soon?"181Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡObhl5XjeAS
"Just a few more days, baby. He's basically useless now anyway."
Useless.
That word echoes in my ears like a taunt.
Paul Medrano. My best friend since grade school. The guy who taught me how to cheat on tests and charm professors. The same guy who watched me walk away from Samantha and said nothing.
Maybe that was the real betrayal.181Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡQ78GZc8J7O
Not Trina's affair—but the silence of someone who knew better and watched me self-destruct for sport.
I sit on the edge of the bed and try to swallow the lump in my throat.
I think of Samantha.181Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡ01TCfgHejk
Of the night I told her she was "blowing things out of proportion."181Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡ4erLrFB9wV
Of how I called our baby a "situation."
God.
I called our daughter a situation.
I think of her now. Angelique.181Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡXBLfZxlGsJ
I've never met her, never held her hand, never heard her laugh.
My daughter probably doesn't even know I exist.
And maybe... maybe that's for the best.
The bathroom door creaks open. Trina steps out in one of my shirts—mine, but somehow hers now.
I look up at her, and for the first time, I really see her.
Not the sexy, exciting upgrade I once thought she was.181Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡ13dOyck4yO
Just a girl who knew how to win by pretending I was a prize.
"You knew, didn't you?" I ask, voice hoarse. "You were with him while you were with me."
She doesn't even flinch. "Why are you acting surprised? You cheated first."
"I didn't know what I was losing then."
"Well," she says, applying lip gloss in the hallway mirror, "that sounds like a you problem."
And just like that, she walks out.
No tears. No apology.181Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡc5pxfy6fwE
Just the sound of her heels fading down the hallway.
I sit there for a long time.
Alone.
Finally understanding what Samantha must've felt that night I didn't show up.181Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡuyLO55hkXH
When I left her pregnant, afraid, and unheard.
Only difference is... she built a life from her ruin.
Me?
I just watched mine rot.
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and then Add to home screen.