Breaking Point
The days after the party passed in a blur. I avoided the usual spots at school, ducked out of conversations, and turned off my phone more often than not. Every text from Caleb, every call from Logan—they all went unanswered. Even Sarah, with her unwavering loyalty, was struggling to get through to me.
“You can’t keep hiding,” she said one afternoon, sitting cross-legged on my bed as I buried myself in a book I wasn’t even reading. “You need to talk to someone—them preferably. Or at least figure out what you want.”
“What I want is to be left alone,” I muttered, not looking up.
Sarah sighed, her frustration palpable. “Emma, you’re allowed to feel hurt, but you can’t just shut down. It’s not going to fix anything.”
Her words lingered long after she left, but I couldn’t bring myself to act on them. The betrayal I’d felt at the party—seeing Vanessa and Caleb together, hearing Logan’s accusations—it was all too raw, too overwhelming.
***
When the knock on my door came, I wasn’t prepared for it. I opened it to find Caleb standing on the porch, his hands shoved into his jacket pockets. He looked… different. Gone was his usual smirk, replaced with an expression that was equal parts regret and determination.
“Can we talk?” he asked, his voice quieter than usual.
I hesitated but stepped aside, letting him in. He stood in the entryway, his shoulders tense as he looked at me. “I screwed up,” he said finally. “And I’m sorry.”
I crossed my arms, keeping my distance. “What do you want me to say, Caleb? That it’s fine? That I’m okay with you letting Vanessa kiss you?”
“It wasn’t like that,” he said quickly. “She kissed me, Emma. I didn’t kiss her back.”
“You didn’t stop her either,” I shot back, my voice trembling. “You just stood there.”
Caleb winced, his gaze dropping to the floor. “I know,” he admitted. “And that’s on me. I should’ve stopped it sooner. I shouldn’t have let it happen at all.”
I wanted to believe him. I wanted to let his apology wash away the hurt and anger, but the memory of that moment—Vanessa’s triumphant smirk, Caleb’s hesitation—was still too fresh.
“I never wanted to hurt you,” he continued, his voice softer now. “I like you, Emma. More than I’ve liked anyone in a long time. And I don’t want to lose you.”
His words hit something deep inside me, but I couldn’t ignore the doubt gnawing at the edges of my mind. “I need time,” I said finally. “I can’t just forget what happened.”
Caleb nodded, his expression pained but understanding. “Take all the time you need,” he said, his voice steady. “I’ll wait.”
***
Later that evening, my phone buzzed again—this time with a text from Logan.
Logan: Can we talk? Please. Just once.
I stared at the screen, my emotions tangled and frayed. Against my better judgment, I typed out a reply.
Me: There’s nothing to talk about.
His response came almost immediately.
Logan: You don’t believe that. You’re just scared to hear the truth.
Anger flared in my chest, and I tossed my phone onto the bed. Logan had no right to lecture me, not after everything he’d done. I was tired of being caught in the middle, tired of trying to make sense of a mess I hadn’t asked for.
For now, the only thing I could do was focus on myself—even if it meant keeping both Caleb and Logan at arm’s length.
