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Chloe

O k, it sounds pathetic getting your big brother’s best friend to pretend to be your boyfriend. God, I feel pathetic.

But in my defense, it wasn’t even my idea. I’m not quite sure how it even happened. All I know is it’s weird and also…not. I glance at Jackson as he makes a right turn.

It’s kind of exciting too.

This was definitely not how I expected to spend my summer.

I’d pictured lazy afternoons buried in books, snuggled up to Brendan.

Not sitting in a beat-up truck next to Jackson on the way home.

But here we are, going along with this crazy plan to make Brendan jealous.

The radio plays soft tunes in the background, filling the silence between us as I steal glances at Jackson's profile. His jawline, sharp against the passing scenery, catches my attention, and I can’t help but wonder how we even got here.

Well, that’s a stupid statement. I rub my chest, the ache in it still raw. I know full well how we got here.

It was literally two days after we graduated school when I got the text. I was even waiting around on the front porch for Brendan to pick me up. What a dick.

This isn’t working, babe. We need time away from each other.

My heart freezes. I stare at the words for several moments. Time away from each other? What the hell does that mean?

I blink and swallow hard, aware of my heartbeat finally picking up pace until it’s loud in my ears. With shaking hands, I type out a reply.

Wth?

It’s all I manage. My heart remains firmly in my mouth as I wait for a reply. I’m not sure how long I wait until I see the blue tick.

And nothing.

I try again.

What do you mean it’s not working?

This time, it doesn’t even show as received. I send several more texts. This has to be a joke. We’ve been together for two years. Everyone knows us as a couple. God, we were voted Cutest Couple at prom.

Finally, I call him, and it goes straight to voicemail.

This has to be a misunderstanding. We had our whole future planned out.

With only two hours between our colleges we were going to see each other every weekend.

Once we finished and got jobs, we’d have a small wedding and settle down in Elmswood.

Tears well in my eyes as I try calling him again and again. He doesn’t pick up. I debate driving over to his house, but my hands are shaking so much, I don’t know that I trust myself to drive.

He couldn’t do this to me. We love each other. I’m certain of it.

“Chlo?”

I glance up to see Jackson at the bottom of the garden steps. He approaches slowly, like he’s walking toward a wounded animal.

I feel like one.

Swiftly, I swipe away the tears and force a smile. It feels fragile.

“I just came over to drop off—” He lifts my mother’s casserole dish in both hands, then stills. “What’s happened?”

I can’t admit it. I’m too embarrassed. I thought we were perfect—Brendan and I.

“N-nothing.”

The words barely escape my mouth before tears well up again, and I drop my head into my hands, unable to hold it back.

“Christ, Chlo,” Jackson mutters and drops onto the step beside me.

Before I know what’s happened, his arms are around me and I’m pressed against his hard chest, the smell of soap surrounding me.

He holds me until the tears slow, then eases me back to meet his gaze.

“What’s happened?”

“I think…” I swallow hard. “I think Brendan dumped me.”

“You think?”

I unlock the phone and scroll up to his text.

“Asshole,” Jackson says through gritted teeth.

I give a slightly hysterical giggle. “That’s about right.”

I feel Jackson watching me as I stare out at the road to hide the tears threatening to spill. The ache in my chest is unbearable. I can't believe Brendan would just end things like this, leaving me hanging with no closure.

“I just... I don't understand. Everything was fine,” I murmur.

Jackson's jaw tightens. “You deserve better than someone who would do this to you, Chloe. If he can't see your worth, then that's his loss.”

His words catch me off guard, and I turn to meet his sincere gaze. There's a warmth in his eyes that soothes the rawness of my emotions. “I thought he was better,” I whisper, feeling the weight of betrayal settle in.

“He doesn't know what he's missing,” Jackson says firmly, his voice tinged with a hint of anger.

“Maybe it’s a misunderstanding.”

“I don’t know.” He runs a hand over his jaw. “It seems legit to me.”

My chin wobbles, and I struggle to gain control over myself, drawing in a deep breath.

Jackson’s eyes widen. “Shit. I didn’t mean—”

“I know.” I take another long breath and wipe my eyes again. “I should probably go to his house. See if I can at least get an explanation as to why I’ve been dumped by text.

“Asshole,” Jackson says again.

“Agreed.” I attempt a smile as I stand up and brush off my jeans. “Thanks, Jackson, for…” I wave vaguely.

He stands too and cocks his head as he retrieves the casserole dish and hands it to me. “Should you be driving in this state?”

I shrug and cradle the dish close as though it can somehow soothe away the pain burrowing deep into my heart.

“I'll be fine. I just need some answers.” Taking a deep breath, I turn to face Jackson, his concern palpable in the furrow of his brow.

“Text me when you get there, okay? Just so I know you're safe,” Jackson insists, his tone gentle yet firm.

The gesture catches me off guard, a warmth blooming in my chest at his unwavering support. “I will,” I promise.

“I mean it, Chlo. Anything you need, just let me know.” He turns on the step, then pauses. “And he doesn’t deserve you. I mean that too.”

I can’t absorb the words in my current state, though they echo in my head when I get home after no one answers the door at Brendan’s.

The rest of my texts and calls have gone unanswered, and I don’t know what else to do apart from climb into bed, my throat raw from crying and my stomach grumbling because I couldn’t force down any food as I tried to pretend everything was all right to Mom and Dad.

After Jackson walked away earlier, I didn’t think I’d hear from him again that night.

I messaged briefly like I promised, then told myself I didn’t need a reply.

After all, I’d already fallen apart on him, sobbed my way into his T-shirt, and unloaded the world’s most awkward breakup story.

What else could I do but cry myself to sleep?

But that’s the thing about Jackson—he surprises me.

The soft buzz of my phone breaks through the fog of exhaustion. I fumble for it on my nightstand, my fingers still clumsy and shaky from crying. The screen lights up, and my heart skips when I see his name.

Made it home in one piece?

It’s such a simple message but, somehow, it says more than it should. He cared enough to check in. That thought alone makes my chest feel a little lighter.

I hesitate before typing back, trying to find the balance between gratitude and my usual awkwardness.

Barely, but I’m home. Thanks for checking.

The response is almost instant.

Good. Get some rest. You need it after today.

A smile tugs at my lips despite myself. It’s the first time I’ve smiled all day, and it feels strange, unfamiliar, but good. I settle back into my pillows and type another reply.

Easier said than done. Not sure sleep is in the cards tonight.

This time, the reply takes longer, and I imagine him thinking, debating what to say. When it finally buzzes through, I blink at the screen.

Want me to call? Sometimes it helps to talk.

My fingers hover over the keyboard. I know I should say no. It’s late, and I don’t want to be that girl, the one who clings and overshares. But the idea of hearing his voice feels like the lifeline I didn’t know I needed.

Okay. Just for a bit.

Not even a minute later, my phone vibrates, and I pick up, heart pounding for reasons I don’t entirely understand.

“Hey,” Jackson’s voice comes through the line, soft and steady. “You good?”

I let out a shaky laugh. “Define ‘good.’”

“That bad, huh?” There’s no judgment in his tone, just a quiet understanding that makes my throat tighten all over again.

“I’m sorry. You don’t have to—”

“Chlo,” he interrupts gently, “you don’t have to apologize for being human.”

The weight of his words presses against my chest, and I close my eyes, letting his voice fill the silence of my room.

“It’s just… everything feels so wrong. I thought Brendan and I were solid.

I thought we had this whole future, and now…

” My voice cracks, and I take a deep breath.

“Now I feel like I don’t know who I am without him. ”

“Chloe, you’re so much more than a relationship,” Jackson says firmly. “I know it doesn’t feel like it right now, but you’re going to get through this. And when you do, you’ll realize he was the one who lost out, not you.”

“I hope so.”

“I know so.”

We talk for a while longer, the conversation shifting to random topics—movies, music, anything but Brendan. By the time we hang up, my eyelids are heavy, and the knot in my chest has loosened just enough for me to drift off.

As I fall asleep, Jackson’s words echo in my mind, grounding me in a way I didn’t think was possible. Maybe I’m not as broken as I thought. Maybe, just maybe, I’ll survive this after all.