Posted Their Texts, Blocked His Number, Bye - Chapter 3: Chapter 3
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"Hey, hey, it's okay. I'm coming now." Harvey's voice crackled with urgency as he grabbed the first clothes he could find, scrambling to get out the door.
His hand paused on the doorknob like he'd just remembered something.
"What were you about to say earlier?" But I'd already locked my feelings away, shoving them down deep.
"Nothing. We'll talk when you get back."
Morning light revealed an empty bed, his pillow undisturbed.
With my departure just days away, I went ahead and quit my job. Most of the bags I'd packed were destined for donation anyway. As I hauled them out to meet the delivery guy, commotion from across the hall stopped me cold.
A small army of movers swarmed the apartment, hauling in pristine furniture.
Even in the chaos, I spotted Harvey instantly—his arm draped protectively around Leigh's shoulders as he micromanaged the setup. That obsessive attention to detail? So typical.
He'd done the same when we moved in together, taking days off work to personally supervise every detail. "Home should feel perfect," he'd told me then.
Now, our shared space barely held his fingerprints.
"Miss? Hello? Your tracking number?" The delivery guy's voice yanked me back to reality.
The noise must have carried, because Leigh came skipping out the moment the delivery guy left.
"Heyyy," she cooed, batting her eyelashes like a Disney princess. "Harvey got this place for me—I've been having awful nightmares. Guess we're neighbors now!"
Her saccharine smile and theatrical blinking almost made me laugh. Almost.
I turned to leave when—bam!—she suddenly reeled backward like she'd been shoved by a ghost, slamming into a worker carrying a cabinet.
"Oww!" Her wail could've won an Oscar as she clutched her lower back.
Harvey came running. He scooped her up instantly, his hands already massaging the "injured" spot. The concern radiating off him was almost tangible.
"Berenice, can you stop acting like a jealous child?" The disappointment in his voice cut deeper than anger ever could.
Leigh played her part perfectly—pale, trembling, the picture of fragile innocence. "Harvey, don't... don't blame her. This is my fault," she quavered. "I shouldn't have moved in... I don't belong here."
"You absolutely do," he murmured, squeezing her shoulder. "You're family."
A migraine pulsed behind my eyes. Their sickening sibling act made my stomach churn.
As I moved to shut my door, Harvey wedged his foot in the frame. "Berenice, apologize!"
The dam broke. "Why the hell should I apologize for something I didn't do?"
"You've pulled worse stunts before!" he fired back.
A bitter laugh escaped me. He always saw what he wanted to see.
Meanwhile, Leigh was shaking her head like a martyr in some tragic play. "Please don't fight because of me! I'm sorry I didn't... stand correctly..."
Harvey took her hand, shooting me a look that could curdle milk. "I never realized how petty you could be," he said coldly. "So vicious over the smallest things."
His words carved deeper than any knife.
Still, I didn't apologize.
With Leigh whimpering about her "pain," Harvey swept her up bridal-style and carried her off.
Watching them disappear, I remembered my own hospital appointment. My insomnia had gotten so bad that melatonin bottles littered my nightstand.
The ER was quiet that afternoon. In and out with my prescription in twenty minutes.
But of course, I ran into them in the lobby—this was the nearest hospital, after all.
There was Leigh, still cradled in Harvey's arms like some delicate treasure, medications dangling from his free hand. Passing couples eyed them wistfully.
"Now that's relationship goals," a pregnant woman whispered, jabbing her indifferent husband.
The irony tasted like ashes.
His hand paused on the doorknob like he'd just remembered something.
"What were you about to say earlier?" But I'd already locked my feelings away, shoving them down deep.
"Nothing. We'll talk when you get back."
Morning light revealed an empty bed, his pillow undisturbed.
With my departure just days away, I went ahead and quit my job. Most of the bags I'd packed were destined for donation anyway. As I hauled them out to meet the delivery guy, commotion from across the hall stopped me cold.
A small army of movers swarmed the apartment, hauling in pristine furniture.
Even in the chaos, I spotted Harvey instantly—his arm draped protectively around Leigh's shoulders as he micromanaged the setup. That obsessive attention to detail? So typical.
He'd done the same when we moved in together, taking days off work to personally supervise every detail. "Home should feel perfect," he'd told me then.
Now, our shared space barely held his fingerprints.
"Miss? Hello? Your tracking number?" The delivery guy's voice yanked me back to reality.
The noise must have carried, because Leigh came skipping out the moment the delivery guy left.
"Heyyy," she cooed, batting her eyelashes like a Disney princess. "Harvey got this place for me—I've been having awful nightmares. Guess we're neighbors now!"
Her saccharine smile and theatrical blinking almost made me laugh. Almost.
I turned to leave when—bam!—she suddenly reeled backward like she'd been shoved by a ghost, slamming into a worker carrying a cabinet.
"Oww!" Her wail could've won an Oscar as she clutched her lower back.
Harvey came running. He scooped her up instantly, his hands already massaging the "injured" spot. The concern radiating off him was almost tangible.
"Berenice, can you stop acting like a jealous child?" The disappointment in his voice cut deeper than anger ever could.
Leigh played her part perfectly—pale, trembling, the picture of fragile innocence. "Harvey, don't... don't blame her. This is my fault," she quavered. "I shouldn't have moved in... I don't belong here."
"You absolutely do," he murmured, squeezing her shoulder. "You're family."
A migraine pulsed behind my eyes. Their sickening sibling act made my stomach churn.
As I moved to shut my door, Harvey wedged his foot in the frame. "Berenice, apologize!"
The dam broke. "Why the hell should I apologize for something I didn't do?"
"You've pulled worse stunts before!" he fired back.
A bitter laugh escaped me. He always saw what he wanted to see.
Meanwhile, Leigh was shaking her head like a martyr in some tragic play. "Please don't fight because of me! I'm sorry I didn't... stand correctly..."
Harvey took her hand, shooting me a look that could curdle milk. "I never realized how petty you could be," he said coldly. "So vicious over the smallest things."
His words carved deeper than any knife.
Still, I didn't apologize.
With Leigh whimpering about her "pain," Harvey swept her up bridal-style and carried her off.
Watching them disappear, I remembered my own hospital appointment. My insomnia had gotten so bad that melatonin bottles littered my nightstand.
The ER was quiet that afternoon. In and out with my prescription in twenty minutes.
But of course, I ran into them in the lobby—this was the nearest hospital, after all.
There was Leigh, still cradled in Harvey's arms like some delicate treasure, medications dangling from his free hand. Passing couples eyed them wistfully.
"Now that's relationship goals," a pregnant woman whispered, jabbing her indifferent husband.
The irony tasted like ashes.
End of Posted Their Texts, Blocked His Number, Bye Chapter 3. Continue reading Chapter 4 or return to Posted Their Texts, Blocked His Number, Bye book page.