Falling For Us Again

21. A PAINFUL NIGHT

Chapter 21

A PAINFUL NIGHT

Jenna

I can’t shake the image of Dylan and Maggie together, the kiss they shared burning behind my eyes like a raw scar. It’s not like I have any right to feel jealous and angry—not after everything, but the feeling of betrayal gnaws at my insides.

If he’s been with Maggie all this time, why did he come after me? I think of all the times we made love and want to cry. Maybe this is his way of getting back at me, of making me feel like a fool. It all makes sense now, Maggie’s frosty attitude towards me and the way she always looked at me whenever Dylan was near like I was trying to take him away from her. My hands curl to a fist by my sides.

Paul is talking, trying to lighten the mood with some joke I don’t register. His voice bounces off me, my attention tethered elsewhere. He raises a brow when I don’t laugh, nudging me gently on the shoulder.

“You okay, Jenna?”

“I—” I don’t even know what to say. The room feels too tight, too loud, and too suffocating. I grab my bag. “Sorry, Paul, but I’m leaving. This reunion has worn me out.”

Paul throws me a knowing look. “It’s okay. Want me to walk you out?”

“No.” The word comes out sharper than I intended. “Thanks for the offer, but I’m good.”

Paul’s eyes linger on me, but he nods, stepping back. “I’ll call you tomorrow, alright?”

Lola appears at my side then, her face flushed from the hours of dancing. She looks at me, then Dylan, putting two and two together with frightening speed.

“I’m coming with you,” she says firmly, linking her arm through mine. “Let’s get out of this place.”

We weave our way through the throng of classmates, Lola offering quick goodbyes as we make our way toward the exit. My feet move automatically, my breath shallow in my chest, every heartbeat a painful pulse.

By the time we step outside into the cool night air, the jealousy inside me is a barely contained storm.

The night stretches out quiet and vast, the stars peeking through the inky sky. I feel the cool wind against my skin, but it does little to cool the fire in my chest.

Lola lights a cigarette, offering it to me, but I shake my head, my fingers tightening around the strap of my bag.

As we’re about to head down the driveway toward Lola’s car, I hear footsteps. At first, I think it’s someone else on also heading to their car, but when I glance back, it’s him.

Dylan.

I grab Lola’s arm and increase my pace.

He jogs to catch up with me, his breath coming in quick bursts. I don’t want to talk to him. I don’t even want to look at him.

“I’ll be in the car,” Lola squeezes my hand, and I nod.

“Jenna, wait—”

The sound of his voice makes me stop, a surge of anger rising in me like wildfire.

I turn on my heel, facing him, my heart thudding in my chest. His face is flushed, but all I see is him and Maggie—him whispering how much he misses me when he has another woman in his heart and bed.

“What do you want, Dylan?” My voice cuts through the night, sharp and cold. I can’t keep the venom from it. “Shouldn’t you be with your girlfriend?”

“Girlfriend, what? It’s not what you think,” he starts, stepping closer, but I raise my hand, stopping him.

I laugh, the sound bitter even to my own ears. “I saw you kissing her, Dylan. In front of everyone.”

He stares at me, his mouth opening and closing like he’s searching for the right words, but none come out.

“It’s not like that,” he says, running a hand through his hair in frustration. “She kissed me. It was a spur of the moment thing. It doesn't mean anything.”

“Doesn’t mean anything?” I take a step toward him, my anger bubbling over. “You’ve been making a fool of me this whole time, haven’t you? Cheating on Maggie too.”

“I’m such an idiot for not seeing through it all. I should have known all you wanted was to get back at me. You want to hurt me as much as I hurt you.”

He lets out a mirthless laugh. “Cheat? You want to talk about cheating? That’s rich coming from you. Just because you cheated on me doesn't mean I’d stoop to your level.”

“Dylan.”

“You cheated on me with Paul Jenna. You screwed my best friend. What kind of a lowlife person does that?”

"Maybe my mother was right about you being a whor-."

The slap cracked in the quiet night before I could stop it.

“That’s not true! I didn’t cheat on you.” The words roll out of my mouth before I could think.

“I never cheated on you, Dylan.” I couldn't stop the tears from rolling down my face.

My face turns white. The realization of what I’d just done hammering in my chest.

I am my father’s daughter after all.

His head snaps back, and my words hang in the air for what seems like an eternity.

The imprint of my hand shows bright on his cold cheeks.

“Jesus Christ, Jenna. Are you really trying to lie about it? My mother saw you two together. Everyone knew in town knows that my girlfriend slept with my best friend when I was out of town. Fu-.” He runs a hand through his hair in frustration.

“I didn’t cheat on you!” I’m crying now. “I didn’t. Your mother saw Paul comforting me after my father decided to skip town because he didn’t want to deal with me anymore.” My breath comes in ragged gasps.

“She called me a lying whore, and threatened to tell you that I was sleeping with Paul if I didn’t leave you alone.

She knew you would believe her over me, and she was right,” I say accusingly.

My voice is trembling as I tell him the truth. It feels like the weight of the world is lifted from my shoulders.

Dylan’s brows furrow, a look of hurt and confusion on his face.

“What? What are you talking about, Jenna? I don’t understand.”

“The truth, but you know what, Dylan?” I say, my heart aching. “Just... leave me alone.”

I turn and run off, my body shaking with equal amounts of anger and pain.

Lola doesn't say a word as I enter the car, only turning the ignition.

The car ride back to my place is a blur. I barely register the music on the radio, the streetlights passing in quick flashes as she drives us through the empty streets.

Minutes later, we arrive at my house.

We don’t say much as we enter, but there’s a quiet understanding between us. Once inside, I immediately head to the kitchen, pulling out a bottle of wine and two glasses.

Lola squeals as I pour generously. We both need this tonight.

“To women,” Lola says, lifting her glass in a toast. “Freed from the shackles of stupid, lying cheats.”

I clink my glass against hers, and we both take a big sip. We sit in silence, finishing off our glass on wine, and pouring another, and another.

It doesn’t take long before I start to feel the effects of the alcohol, dulling the sharp edges of my anger.

“I can't believe Maggie and Dylan have a thing going on. I could've sworn that they were only friends.” Lola says.

“He can go to hell for all I care.”

Lola doesn't say anything, and I gulp down my glass of wine before refilling it.

“You know,” Lola starts after a few moments of silence, “I ended things with Brian.”

I nearly choked on my wine, turning to her in shock. “For real?”

She nods, swirling the liquid in her glass. “The other night at the bar, when Dylan was taking me home, I saw him kissing that woman. I was drunk, so nobody thinks I saw it. Dylan told Maggie to take me in, but I saw everything.”

My heart aches for her, a wave of protective anger surging through me. I can't imagine the betrayal and disrespect she must have felt at that moment.

I take her hands in mine. “Lola, I’m so sorry.”

She shrugs, her smile sad but resigned. “It was just a matter of time, really. I just didn’t want to admit it because of all the years I invested in him, but I knew there was no way I was going to marry him.”

“Jokes on him though. I emptied our bank accounts and cancelled the credit cards. They were mine anyways. I have a feeling his side piece won’t be there much longer when she realizes he’s nothing but a broke piece of shit.”

We both dissolve into uncontrollable laughter.

We fall into a comfortable silence, the weight of our respective heartbreaks settling between us like an old, unwelcome friend. We drink some more, and with every sip, the tension eases, replaced by a deep, aching sadness.

I feel the tears prickling at the corners of my eyes, and I know it’s only a matter of time before the dam breaks.

Lola leans her head against my shoulder, her voice thick with unshed tears. “Men are the worst, aren’t they?”

I laugh, though it’s more of a choked sob. “The absolute worst.”

We sit there for what feels like hours, drowning our sorrows in wine and aiming curses at the men who’ve hurt us.

Lola smiles. “You know what we need?”

“What’s that?”

“We need to watch some trashy TV. No better way to make you feel better about your life choices.”

“You are absolutely right.”

We settle in front of the television, wrapping ourselves in a large blanket and a bowl of popcorn as we get pulled into the latest drama.

Eventually, the tears come, slow and silent at first, then in uncontrollable sobs. Lola wraps her arms around me, and we cling to each other like lifelines in a storm, our heartbreaks mingling together until they’re one and the same.

“I hate him,” I whisper. “And I hate that I still care.”

“I know,” Lola murmurs, her voice soft and full of understanding. “But we’ll get through this. Together.”

I believe her. I have Lola, and she has me. We’ll survive this, no matter how sad we feel right now.

We fall asleep on the couch, the television flickering in the background, the wine glasses empty beside us.