Just Sex- Part 2| Jeon Jungkook
After her boyfriend cheats on her, Y/N’s heartbreak leads to one reckless night with her childhood best friend, Jeon Jungkook. What begins as a drunken mistake turns into a secret
arrangement with strict rules—no feelings, no jealousy, and no falling in love. But the closer they get, the harder it becomes to pretend it’s just physical. When emotions begin to blur the lines between friendship and something more, Y/N must decide if risking her heart is worth losing the one person who has always been there for her.
They promised each other it was just sex—no feelings, no love… until breaking the rules became impossible.
𐙚Paring: Jungkook x Reader
𐙚Genre: Friends to Lovers
𐙚Warnings: 18+ explicit content Infidelity (cheating) nasty smut Alcohol use / intoxication Mature themes Emotional distress / heartbreak Strong language Sexual situations domjk! X sub/domreader
a/n: I stayed up late making this part lol but You guys asked and I delivered haha. This one dives into the messiness of betrayal, heartbreak, and the hard choice to walk away. It’s emotional, a little messy, but that’s exactly how it feels when your world shifts overnight. I hope you felt Y/N’s frustration, anger, and the tiniest bit of relief as she finally takes control of her story. I tried getting all the emotion together. Sometimes letting go hurts… but it’s also the first step toward healing.
previously...part one //the mistake
“Are you serious?” I say, letting out a quiet chuckle.
That finally makes him look at me.
Now we’re both just staring at each other.
“So… are we not going to talk about what happened last night between us?”
I’m sitting on the edge of the bed, fully dressed now, hands resting in my lap as I try to keep them from fidgeting. My nerves twist in my stomach, but this conversation needs to happen—no matter how awkward it is.
He looks at me for a moment.
Then he looks away with a quiet sigh.
He walks over to the dresser and pulls open one of the drawers, grabbing a pair of black pants. The towel around his waist drops to the floor. I glance away for a second, mostly out of instinct, but thankfully he still has underwear on.
I hear the fabric move as he pulls the pants up his legs.
When I look back, he’s grabbing a black belt.
The same one he unbuckled last night.
The memory flashes through my mind and my skin prickles slightly. I quickly push the thought away.
He slides the belt through the loops and buckles it before moving toward the dresser again. He sprays cologne on his neck and wrists, the familiar scent filling the room.
God… I know that smell too well.
He opens his jewelry box, slipping a silver watch onto his wrist and fastening a thin silver chain around his neck. His movements are slow, almost tense.
Then he rubs his hand across his face and runs it through his hair.
“Look… I’m sorry,” he finally says. “I’m sorry about last night.”
I already know where this is going.
“We both weren’t in our right minds, but I still should’ve known better.” He shakes his head slightly. “It’s my fault. I don’t know what got a hold of me last night. That wasn’t my intention at all.”
I watch him quietly for a moment.
The truth is… I already knew last night was a mistake.
Still, hearing him say it out loud makes the room feel a little heavier.
I shift slightly on the edge of the bed before speaking.
“I know,” I say softly. “Trust me… I know it was a mistake.”
My eyes drop to the floor for a second before I look back at him.
“But pretending it didn’t happen would be worse.”
When I look up at him, his eyes are soft—filled with regret. Like he’s carrying the weight of everything that happened last night on his shoulders. Like he truly believes this is all his fault.
I sigh, glancing down at my fingers as I fidget with them.
“And if we’re really blaming someone,” I say slowly, “it should be me. I was the one who told you to kiss me.”
The room goes quiet again.
I don’t even need to look up to know he’s staring at me. I can feel it.
A moment later he steps a little closer.
“Yeah, you did,” he says gently. “But you were acting out of emotion. I should’ve known that and held back.”
He’s dressed completely in black now.
For a second we just stand there, both of us stuck in the middle of the same memory.
“We both played a part in it,” I say. “We’re both responsible for our actions.”
He nods once in agreement.
The tension in the room is starting to feel too heavy, like the air itself is pressing in around us. So I decide to change the subject before it swallows us both.
“So… do you have an extra toothbrush?” I ask, looking up at him.
I stand up from the bed, but the second my feet hit the floor I regret it. My body aches in ways I’d rather not think about right now.
Still, I walk it off like nothing happened.
The last thing I’m going to do is complain to him about that. That would be way too embarrassing.
I follow him into the bathroom. He bends down and opens one of the drawers under the sink while I lean my head back against the door, watching him.
“I really want to take a shower,” I say, “but I don’t have any clothes.”
He stands back up and turns toward me, holding out a toothbrush.
“You can wear mine,” he says casually. “My clothes look cute on you anyway.”
He gestures toward the clothes I’m already wearing—the ones he gave me last night. They’re oversized, hanging loosely on my body, but they’re comfortable.
And they smell exactly like him.
His comment sends a small flutter through my chest, but I ignore it. I would never admit that to him.
I take the toothbrush from his hand and walk past him toward the sink, staring at my reflection in the mirror.
Now he’s standing in the doorway behind me.
Our eyes meet through the mirror.
For a second neither of us says anything.
Then I laugh and turn to face him.
“Don’t tell me you’re falling for me already.”
“Yeah,” he says, shaking his head. “You wish.”
He pushes off the doorway and walks out of the bathroom.
The moment he’s gone, I turn back toward the mirror and let out a slow breath. Even though I'm trying to lighten the mood it's still quiet awadard
Last night flashes through my mind again.
A random sending pictures and videos of my boyfriend cheating on me.
And … everything that happened after that.
I close my eyes for a second.
Three years of my life gone just like that, and the heartbreak still sits heavy in my chest.
Before my thoughts can spiral any further, he comes back into the bathroom holding a small pile of clothes.
“Here,” he says, handing them to me. “You can wear this. Go take your shower.”
A white T-shirt and a pair of black sweats.
He hums in response and walks out of the bathroom again, leaving me alone with my reflection and the sound of the running shower waiting to be turned on.
The bathroom goes quiet the second he leaves.
For a moment I just stand there, staring at my reflection in the mirror. My hair is a mess, my eyes still a little puffy, like the night hasn’t fully left my face yet.
I glance down at the clothes in my hands—the white shirt and black sweats he gave me.
I set them on the counter and reach over to turn the shower on. Water starts rushing from the showerhead, steam slowly filling the small bathroom.
While it heats up, my eyes drift back to the mirror.
Last night flashes through my head again.
I remember exactly where I was.
Standing in my kitchen at home, cutting vegetables while dinner was cooking on the stove. I was excited for him to come home like he always did. Three years together and we still had our little routines.
Then my phone buzzed on the counter.
My jaw tightens as I remember picking it up.
At first I thought it had to be some kind of sick joke. My brain refused to process what I was looking at.
No matter how much i wish it wasn't.
I swallow hard and turn away from the mirror.
The water is hot now, steam clouding the room. I quickly take off my clothes and step into the shower.
Warm water pours over my shoulders and down my back, and I close my eyes, letting out a long breath.
That moment keeps replaying in my head like it’s stuck on a loop.
The way my hands were shaking so bad I could barely hold my phone.
Three whole years with him.
And that’s how I found out.
I tilt my head forward and let the water run over my face.
After that… everything is kind of a blur.
I remember leaving the house.
I remember leaving out in a dress I had on for him. The dress he bought for me.
Then a club. I don't even like clubs
The one person who was there when everything was falling apart.
I press my lips together, my chest tightening slightly.
And somewhere in all of that mess… we crossed a line we never should have.
I drag my hands through my hair under the water, trying to push the memories away.
Last night was a mistake.
And now everything feels different.
After a while I finally turn the water off. The bathroom is quiet again except for the soft drip of water from the showerhead.
Before leaving the bathroom, I grab the toothbrush he gave me and quickly brush my teeth, the towel still wrapped around my body. The minty taste lingers as I rinse my mouth and wipe my face with the edge of the towel.
Once I’m done, I step out of the bathroom, the towel now in my hands as I dry my damp hair. I walk over to the hamper and drop the towel in along with the clothes I had taken off earlier.
My eyes catch the long mirror across the room.
I pause for a second, looking at myself.
His clothes are huge on me. The white shirt hangs almost to my thighs and the black sweats bunch slightly at my ankles. My hair is still damp, small strands clinging to the sides of my face.
I glance around the room.
I walk toward the door and twist the knob open. The moment I step out, I’m greeted by the living room. The big white couch sits in the center, covered in soft pillows, and the large windows let the morning light spill into the space.
My eyes drift toward the kitchen.
Standing at the stove, mixing something in a pan that smells like eggs. He has an apron on, his back turned toward me.
I bite my lip without thinking and walk closer.
He notices me and turns around.
I slide onto one of the bar stools at the kitchen island.
He nods and places a plate in front of me—an egg and bacon sandwich.
While I start eating, he turns back to the sink, rinsing the dishes he used and placing them inside. The kitchen fills with the quiet sound of running water.
“So… how are you?” he asks.
I look up at him with half of the sandwich still in my mouth. I chew for a moment before answering.
“What do you mean? Mentally or physically?”
The second the words leave my mouth, I notice his ears turning red.
“Well… I was talking emotionally,” he says, clearing his throat. “But yeah… that too.”
“Well physically,” I say, “my body’s a little sore.”
When I glance up again, I catch him smirking slightly while he’s looking down at the dishes.
I shake my head and snicker.
“But emotionally…” I sigh.
I slowly lower the sandwich back onto the plate. Just thinking about everything makes my appetite disappear.
But even as I say it, I know he doesn’t believe me.
He sighs and turns the water off. Grabbing a cloth, he dries the pan in his hands before placing it back.
Then he walks over to me.
Before I can react, he gently spins my chair around so I’m facing him. His hand rests on my shoulder.
“You’re not okay,” he says softly. “And that’s okay.”
“Don’t try to put a mask on and hide your feelings. Let it hurt. And once you let it all out… pick yourself back up again. And when you do, let that be the last time you think about it.”
“But for now… let it hurt. It’s okay.”
I stare into his eyes, listening to every word.
It hits harder than I expected.
My chest tightens and I can already feel the tears building in my eyes. I try to hold them back, but with him…
I always end up letting my guard down.
One tear slips out before I can stop it.
I quickly wipe it away like it never happened.
Then I pull his hand off my shoulder and grab my sandwich again, taking a big bite.
“You really have a way with words,” I mumble.
Walking back to the fridge, he pulls out two bottles of water. He slides one across the counter toward me before opening his own.
“Yeah,” he says with a small laugh, leaning against the counter. “I’m a man with words.”
He glances over at me again.
“So… how are we gonna do this?”
I frown slightly. “What do you mean?”
“Well,” he says, rubbing the back of his neck, “I know you probably don’t want to go back home… so have you thought about where you’re gonna stay?”
I freeze a little at that question.
I stare down at the sandwich in my hands, my appetite fading again.
I don’t really have a home anymore.
My mind drifts without me meaning for it to.
I had been living with Jaxon for two years. Back when we first started dating in college, he practically begged me to move in with him. At first I kept saying no, thinking it was too fast.
But after enough convincing… enough promises… I finally gave in.
Most of the time we spent together felt good.
He was the guitar player.
I remember the first time I saw him sitting there with his guitar, playing like he was trying way too hard to impress everyone in the room. I thought he was kind of cheesy at first.
But somehow… he still found his way into my heart.
Three years that now feel like they just collapsed overnight.
I blink and force my mind back to the present, realizing I’ve been staring at my plate too long.
The kitchen suddenly feels quieter than before.
“Yeah… well, I’ll probably just move back in with my mom,” I say, groaning a little at the thought.
Just imagining that conversation makes my head hurt.
She used to brag about him to all her friends—about how sweet he was, how good he treated me. At one point she even started talking about marriage like it was already decided.
She was constantly hinting about grandkids.
“My mom is going to freak out when I tell her,” I mutter, taking a sip from my water.
Jungkook gives me a knowing look.
“Oh yeah,” he says. “For sure.”
I laugh a little, shaking my head.
“I need to go by the house today and get my things.”
He nods slowly. “Should I go with you?”
Part of me doesn’t want to drag him into my mess any more than he already is. But another part of me knows going back there alone would probably be harder than I’m ready for.
“Thank you,” I say, looking at him. “Really. You’ve helped me so much already.”
“Of course,” he replies simply. “You’re my best friend.”
For a moment neither of us says anything.
“But I do want you to know… if you ever decide you want to stay here until you get back on your feet, I wouldn’t mind.”
That makes me look at him.
“I’m more than okay with that,” he adds.
My chest tightens a little at how genuine he sounds. He’s always been a good person, but hearing him offer something like that right now… it means more than I can explain.
My mind immediately jumps to one question though.
“If I stayed… where would I sleep?” I ask.
He walks over to the living room and drops onto the couch casually.
“Well,” he says, leaning back slightly, “I do have another guest room.”
“I just never put a bed in there since I live alone.”
“But if you decide to stay… I’ll buy one.”
The way he says it is so simple, like it wouldn’t even be an inconvenience.
And for a moment I just sit there looking at him, realizing how lucky I am to have someone like him in my life.
"Mm, I'll think about it." I speak.
“When do you want to go?” he asks.
He’s sitting on the couch now, one arm resting along the armrest while he leans forward slightly, resting his head on his forearms.
I look down at my hands, absentmindedly playing with my fingers.
“Now,” I say quietly. “I really just want to get it over with.”
He pushes himself up from the couch and walks over to the small table near the door, grabbing his keys. Then he slips on his black leather jacket before bending down to pull on his black boots.
“Okay,” he says, glancing back at me. “Let’s go.”
I stand up from the stool and pick up my plate, tossing the half-eaten sandwich into the trash before placing the dish in the sink.
Then I walk over toward him.
Right before reaching the door, I stop.
“I… don’t have shoes,” I say.
We both look down at my feet.
He glances over at the row of shoes by the door, scanning them for a second before grabbing a pair of slippers.
“Here,” he says, dropping them in front of my feet. “Wear these for now.”
I look down at them for a moment before sliding my feet inside.
They’re a little big, but they’re warm.
He reaches for the door handle, about to open it when I suddenly remember something.
He pauses and turns back to look at me.
I step away from the door, scanning the living room. I don’t even remember where I put it last night.
My eyes move across the couch, the table, the counter.
He watches me for a second before speaking.
I turn my head toward it.
And sure enough… it’s sitting right there.
I walk over and pick it up.
“I don’t remember putting it there,” I mumble.
He just nods and opens the door for me.
We step out into the hallway and make our way to the elevator. Once inside, the doors slide shut with a quiet ding.
He stands beside me with his hands in his jacket pockets.
I stand next to him, my hands stretched out in front of me as I nervously play with my fingers.
In a little while I’ll be standing in front of my ex-boyfriend again.
But at the same time… I feel a little calmer knowing Jungkook is beside me.
The elevator dings again and the doors slide open.
He steps out first and I follow him toward the parking area. After a few steps he reaches into his pocket and unlocks his black Mercedes.
I open the passenger door and slide into the seat while he walks around to the driver’s side.
He starts the car and pulls out of the parking lot, the city slowly passing by as we drive.
A soft song plays through the speakers while I stare out the window, resting my head back against the seat.
I haven’t looked at my phone since I got that message.
Just thinking about turning it on makes my chest tighten.
What if he’s been texting me all night?
I slowly look down at the phone in my hands.
After a moment, I press the power button.
Confused, I hold the button down longer.
The screen lights up and the phone finally starts turning on.
When did I turn my phone off?
I glance toward Jungkook from the corner of my eye.
He’s already looking at me.
I give him a small smile.
“I had your phone,” he says calmly. “I turned it off this morning while you were asleep.”
My eyebrows lift slightly.
“I saw the messages he sent you.”
For a second my mind spirals. Part of me had thought about texting him myself—telling him exactly how I felt, asking him why, demanding some kind of explanation.
Jungkook keeps one hand on the steering wheel, his eyes focused on the road.
“I even thought about texting him myself and telling him what a piece of shit he is,” he adds.
A small breath leaves my nose.
“But I held back… for you.”
The car stays quiet for a moment except for the soft music playing through the speakers.
“So I turned your phone off,” he continues. “Because I didn’t want that to be the first thing you woke up to.”
I sit there for a second, letting his words settle.
Then I look down at the phone in my hands.
My reflection stares back at me through the dark screen.
“Thank you,” I say quietly.
He glances at me for a second before looking back at the road.
“I just figured you had enough to deal with already.”
That was probably the right call.
If I had woken up to a bunch of messages from Jaxon… I probably would’ve lost my mind before I even had time to breathe.
I lean my head back against the seat again.
The city slowly starts changing outside the window as we get closer to my old neighborhood. The buildings become more familiar. Streets I’ve driven down hundreds of times.
My stomach tightens again.
“Do you want me to come inside with you?” Jungkook asks after a moment.
I know he means well. I know he’d stand there beside me without hesitation if I asked him to.
But I already feel like I’ve dragged him into enough of my mess.
He glances at me briefly.
“Yeah,” I say softly. “You’ve already done more than enough for me. I don’t want to be more of a burden than I already am.”
His expression tightens slightly, like he doesn’t like the word burden, but he doesn’t argue.
The car slows as we turn onto my street.
My chest feels heavier with every house we pass.
Then we pull up in front of it.
The house I’ve lived in for the last two years.
Jungkook parks the car and the engine goes quiet.
For a moment neither of us says anything.
I stare at the front door, trying to gather the courage to step out.
This is really happening.
Two years of walking through that front door like it was home.
Now it just feels… strange.
I swallow and reach for the door handle.
“I won’t take long,” I say quietly.
Jungkook nods. “Take your time.”
I open the door and step out of the car. The cool air hits my face as I close the door behind me.
For a second I just stand there on the sidewalk, staring at the house.
His car is in the driveway.
I take a slow breath and walk up the path toward the front door. Every step feels heavier than the last.
When I reach the porch, I pause.
My hand hovers near the handle.
God… why is this so hard?
This used to be my house too.
I slowly push the door open.
The familiar smell of the house hits me immediately. Everything looks the same—the couch, the kitchen counter, the pictures on the wall.
My voice feels strange in the quiet house.
A moment later I hear movement down the hallway.
The second his eyes land on me, his whole body stiffens.
He steps forward quickly.
“Baby wait— please, just let me explain—”
I hold my hand up before he can come any closer.
“I’m not here to talk,” I say flatly.
“I just came to get my things.”
For a moment he just stands there, running a hand through his hair.
“You didn’t answer any of my messages or my calls,” he says.
“Yeah,” I reply. “I noticed.”
Silence fills the space between us.
Then I walk past him toward the hallway.
As I move toward the bedroom, I can feel his eyes on my back the entire time.
And suddenly the house that used to feel like home feels like the most uncomfortable place in the world.
Outside, Jungkook’s car is still parked at the curb.
Jaxon follows behind her down the hallway, his footsteps slower, heavier. He watches as she walks straight into the bedroom they once shared.
Without saying a word, she goes to the closet.
The moment he sees her pulling clothes off the hangers and stuffing them into a suitcase, something inside him tightens. Anxiety creeps into his chest.
“Baby, please… just listen to me,” he says quickly, stepping closer and grabbing her arm.
She yanks her arm out of his grip immediately.
“What is it that you want to talk to me about, Jaxon?” she snaps, turning to face him. “What exactly do you want to explain?”
Her voice cracks as the emotions she’s been holding back finally spill out.
“What? How you cheated on me?” she continues, her voice rising. “How you fucked another girl?”
The tears start falling down her face, and this time she doesn’t bother trying to hide them.
Jaxon stands there frozen for a moment, staring at her.
Now they’re face to face.
The same girl he once held every night. The girl he laughed with, planned a future with.
“Why, Jaxon?” she cries out, her voice breaking. “Why?”
Her chest rises and falls as she struggles to breathe through the tears.
“What did I do to deserve this?”
He steps closer to her slowly, like he’s afraid she might disappear if he moves too fast.
Then he reaches up, gently placing his hand against her cheek, wiping away her tears with his thumb.
For a moment she doesn’t push him away.
Instead, she leans slightly into his touch, her shoulders shaking as she cries.
She genuinely wants to know.
What made him do something like this to her.
His thumb brushes across my cheek, wiping away the tears that keep falling.
“I don’t know,” he says quietly. “I’ve just been… dumb. I’ve been stressed with work and a lot of other things.”
His voice softens as he looks at me.
“Look, my love… what I did with that girl meant nothing. It was just sex. I didn’t make love to her.”
For a second, I just stare at him.
Those words hit me so unexpectedly that my brain almost doesn’t process them.
My eyebrows lift slightly in disbelief.
Slowly, I pull my face away from his hand and yank his arm off me.
“Just sex?” I repeat out loud.
A laugh slips out of me, but there’s nothing funny about it.
I take a step back from him, shaking my head as another tear falls down my face.
“Here I was,” I say, my voice cracking, “thinking maybe I did something wrong.”
I let out another small, bitter laugh.
“I thought maybe I wasn’t giving you enough attention… or maybe I was too busy… or maybe I wasn’t good enough for you anymore.”
I wipe my face quickly with the back of my hand.
“But no,” I continue, my voice rising. “It was just sex.”
I look at him like I’m seeing a completely different person standing in front of me.
“Do you even hear yourself right now, Jaxon?”
My chest feels tight, my heart pounding.
“You think that makes it better?” I ask. “That you didn’t ‘make love’ to her?”
“That doesn’t make it hurt any less.”
“If anything… it makes it worse.”
I swallow hard, forcing myself to keep speaking.
“Because that means you were willing to throw away three years of us… for something that meant nothing.”
I look at him again, my eyes red and tired.
“I trusted you,” I say softly.
“And you made me look stupid for doing it.”
And for some reason… that makes me chuckle.
A dry, tired sound leaves my mouth as I shake my head and turn away from him. I go back to the closet, pulling more of my clothes down and shoving them into the suitcase.
If he’s not going to say anything, then neither am I.
I zip up one side of the bag before grabbing the rest of my things and heading to the bathroom. I start collecting everything on the counter—my skincare bottles, my toothbrush, my hair products—dropping them into a smaller bag.
Behind me, I hear him chuckle.
The sound makes my shoulders stiffen.
He follows me into the bathroom.
“Yeah,” he says. “And what about you?”
“You’re not so innocent either.”
Slowly, I turn around to face him.
“What are you saying?” I ask.
“I called your mom last night,” he says. “I thought maybe you went over there.”
“But you weren’t,” he continues. “So then I called your friend Myra.”
My chest tightens a little more.
“And she said she hadn’t seen you either.”
His eyes narrow slightly as he steps closer.
The way he says it sounds less like a question and more like an accusation.
Then he points toward the front of the house—toward the street.
“Who’s that person out there?” he says, gesturing toward the window. “Is that who you were with last night?”
My heart drops straight into my stomach.
For a moment, I can’t even speak.
Last night I did something I shouldn’t have.
Something I never thought I would do.
All because my emotions were spiraling out of control.
But hearing him say it like that—like we’re somehow the same—makes something inside me snap.
“You don’t get to switch this on me,” I say firmly.
My voice shakes slightly, but I keep going.
“You don’t get to stand here and act like what we did is the same thing.”
I step closer to him, my eyes locked onto his.
“You cheated on me while we were still together.”
My chest rises with each breath.
I point toward the front of the house.
“And whatever happened after that… happened because you broke us first.”
My chest rises and falls as I stare at him.
“So you admit something happened,” he says.
I can see the anger building in his face, his jaw tightening as the words settle in the room.
I didn’t mean to say that.
I didn’t mean to admit anything.
“Well?” he says, his voice sharp. “Did he fuck you better?”
My head snaps back slightly.
For a second I just stand there, tears streaming down my face as I try to process what he just said.
This wasn’t the Jaxon I knew.
This wasn’t the man I fell in love with three years ago.
This version of him looked bitter. Angry. Almost cruel.
“ANSWER ME!” he suddenly shouts. “Did he fuck you better than I did?”
The way he says it makes something twist painfully in my chest.
Not because of the question.
But because of how he’s speaking to me.
Like everything we had means nothing now.
I wipe my tears roughly with the back of my hand, my whole body shaking with emotion.
“I hate the way you’re talking to me right now,” I say through clenched teeth.
But he just stares at me, waiting.
And something in me finally snaps.
The word echoes through the bathroom.
The tears fall harder now as my voice breaks.
The silence that follows feels thick and suffocating.
For a second, I almost regret saying it.
But another part of me doesn’t.
Because right now, I’m just as angry as he is.
His expression shifts the moment the words leave my mouth.
Like the answer hit him harder than he expected.
He looks away first, running a hand through his hair before letting out a bitter laugh.
“Wow,” he mutters under his breath.
I sniff, wiping my face again as I try to steady my breathing.
“You know what?” I say quietly. “You asked for that answer.”
My voice is still shaking.
“You don’t get to cheat on me… then interrogate me like I’m the one who betrayed you.”
My hands clench at my sides.
“You broke us first, Jaxon.”
The words feel heavy in the air between us.
“And now you’re mad because I didn’t sit around crying and waiting for you to come home.”
The bathroom goes quiet after my words.
Jaxon stands there, his chest rising and falling, his eyes fixed on the floor like he’s trying to process everything that just happened.
But this time it sounds bitter.
“So that’s it then,” he mutters. “You just ran to another guy the second things got hard?”
My eyebrows pull together.
“Things got hard?” I repeat. “You cheated on me.”
“I made a mistake!” he snaps back suddenly.
“A mistake?” I say, almost laughing again. “You don’t accidentally sleep with someone else, Jaxon.”
“It didn’t mean anything!”
“That’s the part you keep saying like it’s supposed to make me feel better!” I shout.
My voice echoes off the bathroom walls.
“You saying it meant nothing just makes it worse.”
He shakes his head, running his hands through his hair again like he’s frustrated.
“So what?” he says. “You just decided to get revenge?”
“That’s what you think this was?”
“Well what else would it be?” he shoots back. “You disappear all night and show up the next morning with some guy dropping you off outside my house?”
I wipe my face again, exhausted from crying.
“You really think that was my plan?” I say quietly.
“Do you know what I was doing last night before I got that message?” I ask.
His eyes flick back to mine.
“I was cooking dinner for you.”
The words leave my mouth before I can stop them.
“I was in the kitchen… cutting vegetables… waiting for you to come home.”
“And then my phone buzzed.”
The memory flashes so clearly in my head it almost makes my stomach turn.
“Pictures,” I continue. “Videos.”
His face changes slightly.
“And that’s how I found out my boyfriend of three years was sleeping with someone else.”
Silence fills the bathroom again.
“So no,” I say, shaking my head. “I didn’t go out planning to sleep with anyone.”
“I went out because my entire life just collapsed in five seconds.”
Jaxon looks away again, his shoulders tense.
“And the person outside?” I add quietly.
That makes his head snap back toward me.
“And he was the only person who showed up for me last night.”
Jaxon stares at me after I say it.
The words hang in the air for a moment before something in his face changes.
“Your best friend?” he repeats slowly.
Then he laughs, but there’s no humor in it.
“You slept with your best friend?”
“You don’t get to judge me right now,” I say quietly.
“Oh I absolutely do,” he snaps. “Because the second things went wrong you ran straight into another guy’s bed.”
My hands clench at my sides.
“You don’t get to twist the story like that,” I say. “You started this.”
“I told you it didn’t mean anything!” he shouts.
“And I told you that doesn’t make it better!” I shout back.
For a second we just stare at each other again, both breathing hard.
Then I shake my head and turn away from him.
“This conversation is pointless.”
I walk back into the bedroom and grab the suitcase from the bed, dragging it toward the door. Jaxon follows behind me again.
“You’re really leaving?” he says.
I stop in the doorway and look back at him.
“You really thought I would stay after what you did?”
“Sorry doesn’t fix betrayal,” I reply.
The words come out calmer now, but somehow they feel heavier than the yelling.
“I trusted you with my heart, Jaxon.”
He looks like he wants to say something else, but I don’t give him the chance.
I grab the smaller bag with my bathroom stuff and start walking toward the front door.
Every step feels strange.
This used to be my house.
Now it just feels like a place I need to escape from.
Behind me I hear his footsteps again.
I stop and turn around one last time.
His eyes search my face like he’s trying to find the girl he used to know.
“Did you mean it?” he asks quietly.
“What you said earlier,” he continues. “About him.”
My chest tightens because I know exactly what he means.
For a moment I just stare at him.
Then I shake my head slightly.
“That’s not the question you should be asking.”
“The question you should be asking,” I say softly, “is why you destroyed the best thing you had.”
The room falls quiet again.
And this time when I walk toward the door…
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a/n: I hope you enjoyed reading like for part 3 <33
