Page 58 of Texts From My Exes
I dragged in a shaky breath. “It’s real. It’s real to me. Every second. Every laugh, every fight, every time I thought maybe—maybe there was something more. It was real. Just because it’s on an app doesn’t mean your heart isn’t involved.”
I bit down hard on my lip, tasting blood. My voice cracked. “But is it real to everyone else? To the guys I let go? To Aaron? To Vex? Is he a liar? Is he really perfect?”
I swallowed, shaking my head. “He told me no cameras. Just us. He looked me in the eye and swore. And I believed him, because he was my best friend. Because stupid me thought he’d never sell me out. But guess what?” My laugh was bitter, broken. “Turns out, I was just another scene. Another highlight reel. Or am I overreacting? Is this why we never worked out?” I left out the part where we never dated, I was scraping the bottom of the bucket, airing out my dirty laundry online while also asking complete strangers who were invested in my life for advice they couldn’t adequately give because I was a dirty little liar!
The words spilled out faster, sharper. “So here’s a mid-date confessional. I still have another one with Aaron and of course another date with Vex before I upload my final ‘hey here’s who I’m going to pick and see where things are going with’ and all I have is confusion. Why would Vex kiss me or Ezra whatever it’s weird calling them by both names. And Aaron? Is he being truthful? How do you even know these days without a solid background check, blood work, and social security number, you know? All I know is it doesn’t feel great right now. Right now I’m not thinking about the kiss I shared with him and sighing cheerfully while walking around my gorgeous apartment, thanks grandma for the real-life trauma, seriously, I’m just stuck. I don’t know what to believe and the heart seems to be the least reliable but my brain keeps going ‘but maybe this time we’re right’. Well Harper, every other time you’ve been wrong! What makes this time any different? Any of you guys deal with that or am I just talking out of my ass now?” I shrugged. “There you have it, the ugly, gross truth about my confusion, about this littleexperiment. It started as something fun but I’m pretty sure these very real tears aren’t screaming ‘yay’ as they slide down my puffy face.”
My hand shook as I hit stop. For a beat, I just stared at the frozen thumbnail—me, messy and a bit wrecked, a lot confused, tears still glistening. Then, before I could think better of it, I hit upload.
Seconds later, it was live.
The truth.
The ugly, broken, humiliating truth.
And there was no taking it back.
I sat on that stupid toilet, phone in hand as notifications went off. I silenced them and stumbled out from the little bathroom stall and ignored the mascara streaks down my face when I glanced in the mirror. I just wanted to go home.
When I finally did make it home, I stumbled into the kitchen and poured a glass of water. I needed to hydrate after all those tears, and reluctantly turned back on my notifications including a text from Ezra:
Hey, it’s me. Your favorite ex.
The one who always refilled your popcorn before you even asked.
I regret nothing except letting you win at Mario Kart that one time.
I didn’t respond, just stared at my phone.
And then heard the sound of knocking on the front door.
CHAPTER
TWENTY-EIGHT
EZRA
It’s the talking, it’s too much. I need space and silence. Why don’t women come with a mute button? Wait, do you?
—Charles.
Ipounded the door with my fist. “Harper. Open up.”
Her voice came back sharp, ragged. “It’s over, it’s done, I asked the universe my questions, nobody answered and I’m tired!”
“It’s not over,” I shouted. “It never even started. Like you’d ever give me a chance to begin with!”
“How could you lead me on like that?” she yelled through the wood. “Do you know how embarrassed I am right now? I can’t even look at you! I fed right into your scrawny little hand!”
I gasped. “My hand is not scrawny and you know it! I see the way you stare at my arms. And that’s beside the point! Do you really think I’d crawl back into content creating just to take their side again? I hated my channel. I hated all of this—the confusion, the using people. I hated it.” My voice cracked. “I don’t hate you, though. I—I?—”
The door jerked open.
Her eyes were red, furious, wet. “What? You what, Ezra?”
The moment wasn’t right. To say it now would be a weapon, not a confession. I wanted to tell her I loved her, that I’d kiss her tears away, kill the guy who made her waste them in the first place. But I couldn’t. She wouldn’t believe me. That was the curse of being in love with your best friend—you knew exactly how they’d react.
And right now, I was the villain. I was the guy who made her cry.
