Oops! I Ruined His Life Back - Chapter 2: Chapter 2
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I'd lost count of how many times I'd heard this same tired excuse from Charles. In the past, I would've been screaming at him by now.
But this time? Nothing. Just numbness. I nodded mechanically, my face an unreadable mask. My calmness threw him off—I could see the panic flicker in his eyes as he scrambled to regain control.
He stepped closer, forcing patience into his voice. "Sydney, Jenna's been in my life longer than you have. She's practically family. And hello? I'm marrying you—what more do you want?"
I just stared, really seeing him for the first time. The way he said it—like marrying me was some grand charitable act.
The emotions churning inside me finally surfaced in three quiet words: "Let's break up."
Saying it aloud felt like shedding a hundred-pound weight.
Charles froze. "What did you just say?" His voice cracked with disbelief. "Break up" had never been part of our vocabulary.
In all our years together, our fights followed the same script: his dramatic outburst, my tearful apology. The nuclear option was never on the table.
"Are you serious? Our wedding's in two months, you're carrying my child—can't you be reasonable for once?" He looked at me like I'd grown a second head.
He knew I worshipped him. Probably thought this was just another tantrum I'd eventually apologize for.
Before I could respond, his phone rang. He glanced at the screen and answered immediately.
"Charles," a breathy voice whimpered through the speaker, "the wind up here is so strong... I don't feel safe..."
"Jenna, stop crying—just tell me where you are." He was already shrugging into his jacket. At the door, he threw me one last glare. "I'm done with your drama. Think hard about whether you actually want to call this off."
The slam of the door echoed through our apartment.
I stood there, the truth hitting me like a freight train.
Charles had never dropped everything to comfort me. But for her? He'd run out at midnight like some knight in shining armor.
He didn't come home that night. By morning, I started packing.
Out went the couple tees, the matching necklaces, the Polaroids from Coney Island, the ridiculous stuffed unicorn I'd won for him at the carnival. Every memory of us went into black trash bags.
As I worked, the imbalance became painfully clear—four bulging bags of "us," versus two small boxes of just "me."
Five days. That's how long it took to erase him from my life. Five days of radio silence—no calls, no texts. My only updates came through Jenna's relentless TikTok feed.
There they were: riding roller coasters, him feeding her cotton candy, playing seven minutes in heaven. The algorithm kept shoving her content in my face, no matter how many times I tapped "Not Interested."
By the time I taped the last box shut, one thing was certain—Charles Montgomery wouldn't be part of my next chapter.
But this time? Nothing. Just numbness. I nodded mechanically, my face an unreadable mask. My calmness threw him off—I could see the panic flicker in his eyes as he scrambled to regain control.
He stepped closer, forcing patience into his voice. "Sydney, Jenna's been in my life longer than you have. She's practically family. And hello? I'm marrying you—what more do you want?"
I just stared, really seeing him for the first time. The way he said it—like marrying me was some grand charitable act.
The emotions churning inside me finally surfaced in three quiet words: "Let's break up."
Saying it aloud felt like shedding a hundred-pound weight.
Charles froze. "What did you just say?" His voice cracked with disbelief. "Break up" had never been part of our vocabulary.
In all our years together, our fights followed the same script: his dramatic outburst, my tearful apology. The nuclear option was never on the table.
"Are you serious? Our wedding's in two months, you're carrying my child—can't you be reasonable for once?" He looked at me like I'd grown a second head.
He knew I worshipped him. Probably thought this was just another tantrum I'd eventually apologize for.
Before I could respond, his phone rang. He glanced at the screen and answered immediately.
"Charles," a breathy voice whimpered through the speaker, "the wind up here is so strong... I don't feel safe..."
"Jenna, stop crying—just tell me where you are." He was already shrugging into his jacket. At the door, he threw me one last glare. "I'm done with your drama. Think hard about whether you actually want to call this off."
The slam of the door echoed through our apartment.
I stood there, the truth hitting me like a freight train.
Charles had never dropped everything to comfort me. But for her? He'd run out at midnight like some knight in shining armor.
He didn't come home that night. By morning, I started packing.
Out went the couple tees, the matching necklaces, the Polaroids from Coney Island, the ridiculous stuffed unicorn I'd won for him at the carnival. Every memory of us went into black trash bags.
As I worked, the imbalance became painfully clear—four bulging bags of "us," versus two small boxes of just "me."
Five days. That's how long it took to erase him from my life. Five days of radio silence—no calls, no texts. My only updates came through Jenna's relentless TikTok feed.
There they were: riding roller coasters, him feeding her cotton candy, playing seven minutes in heaven. The algorithm kept shoving her content in my face, no matter how many times I tapped "Not Interested."
By the time I taped the last box shut, one thing was certain—Charles Montgomery wouldn't be part of my next chapter.
End of Oops! I Ruined His Life Back Chapter 2. Continue reading Chapter 3 or return to Oops! I Ruined His Life Back book page.