The only thing she did say, once I’d updated her on everything, was “I hope this means next time you won’t make the same mistake.”
Once Ria finds he has no presence at all (she’s still convinced he’s lurking somewhere), she leans against the wall beside my bed.
“So, what’s going to happen with you and Marlon now?”
My heart races, and for once I’m not inclined to defend the fact that we’re just friends.
A little sliver of unexpected hope appears as I ask, “What do you mean?”
“Well, you and Rafayel clearly failed. So there’s no point in you extending this ruse for much longer. Are you both going to stage the grand break up soon?”
That didn’t even pass my mind.
I lean against the wall, sighing, “I guess so. Maybe in a month or two?”
And now that Rafayel is out of the picture, the need for this ruse grew a little thinner. But did I want it to end?
The whole point was for Marlon and I to be free of our matchmaking families, to pursue the happily-ever-afters that we wanted. Yet, I’m beginning to wonder what happily-ever-after truly means anymore.
How one reaches it.
I’d always thought the greatest love stories start with that perfect beginning, just as it did with my parents.
And yet, after the most seemingly perfect meet-cute, at a bookstore of all places, that ended in nothing but disaster, I’m starting to question my own knowledge of love.
If I even know anything about it at all.
Twenty Six
The moment I open my eyes,a searing pain shoots through my brain and my pelvis.
I groan, dragging myself from bed just before my family leaves the house, so I can properly say bye to them. Thank God it’s Friday and I don’t have any classes
Once I’m downstairs, Dad presses a hand to my forehead.
“You’re feeling a little warm there, Jaslene,” he says, concerned, “Make sure you’re not overworking yourself. You rest today, okay?”
“It’s just my periods,” I assure him, though I know that this migraine isn’t from periods alone. The events of yesterday flash through my mind, each image like a stab against my body.
When my family finally leaves the house, the first thing I do is update Kiara and Diane on everything.
I explain everything that happened, from the moment I stepped into Books and Bricks, to seeing Rafayel’s girlfriend, to running into Marlon right after.
As expected, they launch into a fury of insults about Rafayel, commenting on how he was never cute anyway, about how I was too good for him.
About how they hope he never finds anyone again. They curse on cheaters, on how people like that don’t deserve love.
Once they get their heavily worded opinions out, they try to find him on social media, but to no avail.
“What the hell is this man, a ghost?” Kiara asked, groaning as she searches up different variations of Rafayel, even going onto the Books and Bricks official page to search their followers.
I wave it away, telling them not to worry about him anymore.
At this point, I’m just exhausted. They encourage me to delete him from my phone, to delete every trace of him. I’d immediately blocked Rafayel on the way to the kpop store yesterday, so I don’t even know if he’d tried to reach out at all. Diane insists that blocking isn’t good enough, and to delete the messages entirely.
The call ends after two hours, and I’m left to the silence of the house once again, balancing between a strange feeling of relief and grief. I comply with Diane’s words, opening up his last message to me.
The sleaze had sent that the morning I paid him a visit. In one swift click, Rafayel is completely erased. As if he’d never existed. Like I hadn’t spent the better part of the last few weeks completely enamoured by him, obsessing over him. Of believing he was the love of my life.
