Page 80 of Texts From My Exes
“None taken. I asked you for drugs on date two. Continue.”
I nodded, wincing. “Right. So I was going to hire someone. And then my best friend—Ezra—found out at the same time everyone else did. He stepped in. Pretended to be ‘The One That Got Away.’” I swallowed hard. “Only he wasn’t pretending.”
Aaron bit his lip. Thoughtful. Quiet. Then he said, softly, “the one that got away never left. You just never noticed.”
I crossed my arms. “I noticed. I just told myself I’d rather be alone than lose my best friend.”
He cursed, dragging both hands down his face. “See, that’s the problem with people. We act like they’re two different roles:best friend or love of your life. Why the fuck can’t they be the same person?” His voice cracked, but he forced a smile. “I hope that kind of love finds me. The kind I thought maybe—maybe—I could’ve had with you.”
Then he pointed at the camera, sharp. “Ezra, mess this up, and I’m stealing her. I’m not kidding.”
I laughed, even as my eyes burned.
Aaron held out his hand. “Guess the best friend position is shifting around. He’s moving up. Maybe there’s space for me as…backup. Keep me in mind. I throw a mean punch in a bar fight.”
I slid my hand into his. “Might be useful.”
He tugged me into a hug. Warm. Easy. Final. “Good luck, Harper. I’m rooting for you.”
“Good luck to you, Aaron. You’re one of the best exes I’ve ever had.”
He smirked. “Not much competition. But thanks anyway.”
I watched Aaron walk away and prayed my anxiety wouldn’t spike. My notifications were already blowing up—the network guy was practically drooling over the drama. Great. He liked Aaron. Fantastic.
I was scrolling through the usual texts when another notification hit, harder, brighter.
YouTube.
Ezra’s old channel.
Live.
My thumb shook as I clicked, nearly dropping my phone when his face filled the screen.
“So, if you’re just tuning in—hiiiii.” He gave a weak wave. “Confessional time. Let’s start with why I quit.
“Well…it’s kind of a long story. Ish.
“I was questioning a lot about my life. My safety. My trajectory, if you will. Where all the fame was taking me, andwhat the hell I was doing with all that money. And then I started seeing some…unsavory things in the industry. Hey, every industry has them. But I was burnt out, man.
“The hate comments were just as loud as the love. And the thing about hate? I could read a million good ones and then see one bad one—and it would eat me alive. Made me wonder if any of it was worth it. Online I was either sexy but not smart, or so smart I was stupid. No in-between.
“I was at a convention once, for creators, and something happened. A situation where I didn’t feel safe. Not as a man, not even as a human being. And it screwed me up. Apparently the persona I built online meant I was fair game. Open to all sorts of things. It disgusted me. Made me hate myself.
“I went back to my room that night, depressed as hell, scrolling comments with a bottle of pills sitting next to me. And then…I saw one. Just one. A comment from someone who said she was rooting for me.
“I clicked. Which I rarely did. And I found her weird little channel with five followers—one of them being a cat. I still don’t know how that cat managed it, but later I found out the cat was named Blue. Her grandmother’s.
“But the point is—she was smiling. She was happy. In college, broke as hell, with a camera that barely worked, and she was still radiating light.
“And that comment? It saved me. That smile? Saved me. I was ready to stop fighting that night. She made me fight one more day.
“So Harper…” His voice cracked. He dragged a hand through his hair, eyes shining. “…I may not have been your ex. But I’ve always been your best friend. And you—you’ve only ever been my savior. The one person who saw me. Who encouraged me. Who saved my life.”
I pressed my fist to my mouth, heart pounding so hard it hurt.
Ezra dragged in a shaky breath, eyes boring into the camera like it was me. Like it had only ever been me.
