Page 167 of Sweet Venom

“The tragedy.” Preston bangs his fist on the blanket. “My ego is so wounded, I could die.”

“Well, the first loss of the season was because of you, so you’re both bringing Kane down,” Dahlia says, slurping from her can of Dr. Pepper.

Preston’s expression darkens in an instant. “You have a death wish or something, Dorothy?”

“Everyone loses at some point. Don’t take it to heart,” I say in an attempt to relieve the tension, even though I know quite well that the last game was Jude’s worst game of the season.

It’s not that I meant to watch it or anything, but I wanted to take a sneak peek and see how he was doing. Consider it nosiness or curiosity.

But at any rate, I ended up watching the whole thing.

Because even through the screen, I could see how perturbed he was, how he looked to be on edge, how he got too aggressive for no reason.

And even though I didn’t know what he was thinking, I could feel his pain and I knew he probably still hadn’t processed everything from that dinner.

I’ve wanted to reach out and help him, but he made it clear that he wanted nothing to do with me, and I have my pride, so I stopped sending unanswered texts and have stayed away from him.

My therapist made me realize it’s in my nature to empathize with others’ pain. It’s a way for me to accept my own pain and find solace in the fact that I’m not the only one who’s had to deal with shitty circumstances. I find comfort in knowing that people from all walks of life have had their share of misery as well—oftentimes worse than mine.

It’s why I go out of my way to volunteer or help those in need, even though I’m not better off. It’s why I stood by Laura and did my best, hoping she would win the custody battle—which she did while I was sleeping, by the way.

And while that’s good in theory, I have to set boundaries. I have to also prioritize my own well-being so that I don’t absorb others’ pain as if it’s my own.

It’s not.

I reached out to Jude and offered him emotional support, but he obviously doesn’t care for that. If anything, the steps I took to bring us closer were met with his complete retreat.

Apparently, I’m the only one who was thinking that what we had was something deeper, and his ghosting was the wake-up call I needed.

No matter how bad I feel for him, I deserve better than Jude’s cold shoulder and fluctuating interest.

Now, if I could stop thinking about him, that would be amazing.

“Everyone isn’t me,” Preston replies to my earlier statement. “I’m the god of this game.”

“Nah, that would be Kane,” Dahlia says with a note of pride.

“You’re biased, so your opinion doesn’t count.” He nudges me. “Who do you think is the best, Vee? And for everything that’s unholy, don’t say Jude.”

“I’m not an expert.” I smile.

“Don’t try to evade the subject. Wait a minute…you’re saying that so you won’t have to say Jude is the best, aren’t you?”

“I…don’t care about him.”

Dahlia strokes my shoulder, giving me an encouraging smile. She was the one who listened to me a few days after that dinner. I told her about how he was avoiding me, and she offered to teach him a lesson in pure Dahlia fashion.

“Yeah, he’s such a loser anyway,” she says. “Don’t know why everyone loves him so much when the dude clearly has anger issues.”

“Hey!” Preston sits up. “Don’t go talking about shit you don’t understand. His issues have explanations.”

Dahlia crosses her arms and lifts her nose in the air. “Whatever those explanations are, they don’t give him carte blanche to unleash his rage on others.”

“I don’t agree, but he totally messed up when it comes to you, Vee.” Preston lifts a shoulder. “You should’ve been the exception.”

“I’m fine, seriously. That’s life, right?”

“No, it’s not.” Dahlia breathes harshly. “He already stalked you and pushed you into a coma, so the least he can do is treat you right and grovel for the rest of his life. That fucking brute is hopeless. Don’t worry, Vi, I’ll find you someone better.”