Posted Their Texts, Blocked His Number, Bye - Chapter 1: Chapter 1
You are reading Posted Their Texts, Blocked His Number, Bye, Chapter 1: Chapter 1. Read more chapters of Posted Their Texts, Blocked His Number, Bye.
My boyfriend and his so-called "sister" got busted in a hotel prostitution sting.
When I showed up to bail him out, his neck was littered with hickeys, and he was too busy comforting her—Leigh, the perpetual damsel in distress—as she sobbed into her hands.
"Her apartment lock broke, and she was scared, so I stayed with her," he explained, like that made any damn sense.
A year ago, I would've lost it—screaming, demanding answers, playing the jealous girlfriend. But not this time. I was done.
I signed the release papers in silence.
"Family?" an officer asked.
I shook my head. "Just neighbors."
Then I pulled out my phone and texted my mom:
[That arranged marriage you mentioned? Fine, I'll do it. Give me three days. I'm coming home.]
Outside the station, Leigh—still sniffling—climbed into my passenger seat without asking. Too exhausted to argue, I started the car. But just as I gripped the wheel, her hand clamped onto my arm.
Except she wasn't looking at me. Those watery eyes were locked on Harvey.
"I'm scared," she whimpered, her nose red, tears threatening to spill. "I don't like riding in other people's cars."
I yanked my arm free. "Then get out."
The air turned icy. Leigh burst into full-blown sobs, and from the backseat, Harvey snapped:
"Berenice, do you always have to be so heartless? You know what she's been through with her brother. Can't you show a little compassion?"
Then, coldly: "Get out. I'll drive."
Before I could react, he wrenched my door open so hard the hinges rattled. Freezing wind blasted in. I shivered but didn't move—just stared at him, stunned.
Harvey, the guy who never raised his voice, was suddenly a stranger. He unbuckled my seatbelt, dragged me out, and I barely caught myself from falling.
Without a glance, he slid into the driver's seat, leaned over, and tenderly brushed Leigh's hair. "Shhh, I'll take you home first."
"Oh, Harvey, you're the best!" she cooed, flashing me a smug smirk.
Before peeling off, he tossed me one last gem: "You're an adult. Figure it out. I'll come back after dropping her off."
I stood frozen, watching their taillights disappear. Right before they turned the corner, I saw that bitch plant a kiss on his cheek.
My phone buzzed—Mom.
"Sweetheart, did you see Torin's photo?"
Torin Fernandez. My would-be husband. Tall. Handsome.
Mom sighed in relief. "You're finally growing up. Your dad's not getting any younger. He's been furious since you ran away all those years ago. It's good you're coming back."
I stared at moths circling a streetlight, my thoughts a mess.
I'd left home to escape this exact fate. Then I met Harvey and thought I'd won the lottery.
Seven years. I stood by him while he built his business from scratch. Every time I brought up marriage? "It's too soon." And the pregnancies I quietly ended because of that? More than one.
I'd been stupid enough to think his love was enough.
Not anymore.
I took a cab home.
Harvey must've felt something because he showed up not long after. He walked in on me packing—half my clothes already stuffed into suitcases.
"Why are you packing?" he asked, confused.
"Decluttering," I said flatly, praying he'd just go shower. The sickly-sweet perfume clinging to him made me nauseous.
He hesitated, clueless as ever, and kept rambling to himself.
When I showed up to bail him out, his neck was littered with hickeys, and he was too busy comforting her—Leigh, the perpetual damsel in distress—as she sobbed into her hands.
"Her apartment lock broke, and she was scared, so I stayed with her," he explained, like that made any damn sense.
A year ago, I would've lost it—screaming, demanding answers, playing the jealous girlfriend. But not this time. I was done.
I signed the release papers in silence.
"Family?" an officer asked.
I shook my head. "Just neighbors."
Then I pulled out my phone and texted my mom:
[That arranged marriage you mentioned? Fine, I'll do it. Give me three days. I'm coming home.]
Outside the station, Leigh—still sniffling—climbed into my passenger seat without asking. Too exhausted to argue, I started the car. But just as I gripped the wheel, her hand clamped onto my arm.
Except she wasn't looking at me. Those watery eyes were locked on Harvey.
"I'm scared," she whimpered, her nose red, tears threatening to spill. "I don't like riding in other people's cars."
I yanked my arm free. "Then get out."
The air turned icy. Leigh burst into full-blown sobs, and from the backseat, Harvey snapped:
"Berenice, do you always have to be so heartless? You know what she's been through with her brother. Can't you show a little compassion?"
Then, coldly: "Get out. I'll drive."
Before I could react, he wrenched my door open so hard the hinges rattled. Freezing wind blasted in. I shivered but didn't move—just stared at him, stunned.
Harvey, the guy who never raised his voice, was suddenly a stranger. He unbuckled my seatbelt, dragged me out, and I barely caught myself from falling.
Without a glance, he slid into the driver's seat, leaned over, and tenderly brushed Leigh's hair. "Shhh, I'll take you home first."
"Oh, Harvey, you're the best!" she cooed, flashing me a smug smirk.
Before peeling off, he tossed me one last gem: "You're an adult. Figure it out. I'll come back after dropping her off."
I stood frozen, watching their taillights disappear. Right before they turned the corner, I saw that bitch plant a kiss on his cheek.
My phone buzzed—Mom.
"Sweetheart, did you see Torin's photo?"
Torin Fernandez. My would-be husband. Tall. Handsome.
Mom sighed in relief. "You're finally growing up. Your dad's not getting any younger. He's been furious since you ran away all those years ago. It's good you're coming back."
I stared at moths circling a streetlight, my thoughts a mess.
I'd left home to escape this exact fate. Then I met Harvey and thought I'd won the lottery.
Seven years. I stood by him while he built his business from scratch. Every time I brought up marriage? "It's too soon." And the pregnancies I quietly ended because of that? More than one.
I'd been stupid enough to think his love was enough.
Not anymore.
I took a cab home.
Harvey must've felt something because he showed up not long after. He walked in on me packing—half my clothes already stuffed into suitcases.
"Why are you packing?" he asked, confused.
"Decluttering," I said flatly, praying he'd just go shower. The sickly-sweet perfume clinging to him made me nauseous.
He hesitated, clueless as ever, and kept rambling to himself.
End of Posted Their Texts, Blocked His Number, Bye Chapter 1. Continue reading Chapter 2 or return to Posted Their Texts, Blocked His Number, Bye book page.