boldness, he opened his story, typed out a line, and hit post:
"Tejo, stop stalking me. Let's talk."
He didn't expect anything. Maybe silence. Maybe the guy would feel embarrassed and back off.
But a reply came.
"Bro đ chill. I'm not stalking. You just happen to be important."
Ren frowned. Important? He typed back:
"What do you mean? I've seen you with Tulip before."
A pause. Then Tejo's words landed like a knife:
"Yeah man. We're dating."
Ren froze. His chest tightened as though someone had yanked the air out of him.
"You're⊠what?"
"Dating," Tejo repeated, casual, almost smug. "She's my girlfriend now. Been weeks."
Ren's stomach dropped. His hands trembled as he set the phone down on his bed. The room spun, colors blurring into a haze. Weeks. Weeks? That couldn't be true. Tulip had been talking to him almost every day just a short while ago. She had been opening up to him, laughing with him, trusting him with her fears. How could she have been someone else's all that time?
He whispered to the empty room:
"She's⊠my friend."
A new notification blinked. Tejo again.
"Maybe, but she's my girlfriend now. Respect that."
Ren couldn't reply. He stared at the words, his heart shattering in slow, painful cracks.
Moments later, another notification. This time from Tulip.
"Why'd you text Tejo?"
Ren's fingers shook as he typed back.
"Are you dating?"
A pause. Then:
"Yes."
The word stung. Cold. Final.
Before he could process it, another message arrived.
"You ruined my relationship. Now Tejo doesn't trust me. Why would you do this?"
Ren blinked at the screen, the words twisting like a cruel joke. Ruined her relationship? His vision blurred with tears. He hadn't meant to ruin anything. He had only wanted clarity, a shred of truth to anchor himself to.
He typed back, desperately:
"I didn't mean to. Can you just⊠call me? Please."
For long minutes, silence. He thought she wouldn't. But then, the screen lit up. Tulip's name. Incoming call.
Ren picked up instantly.
Her voice cracked through the speaker, trembling with frustration and fear. "Ren⊠he's so angry. He thinks I lied. He thinks I've been hiding things from him. I don't want to lose him."
Ren's chest caved in. The way she said it raw, vulnerable, terrified wasn't how she had ever sounded with him. Not once.
In that moment, it became brutally clear. She had never felt this way for him. Not the same way. Not the way he had quietly, hopelessly started to feel about her.
He swallowed the lump in his throat and forced his voice steady. "You won't lose him. I'll fix this."
Tulip sniffled. "You promise?"
"I promise."
The call ended, leaving Ren in silence. He stared at the ceiling, the betrayal clawing inside him, but he pushed it down. For her sake.
That night, he messaged Tejo again. Careful words. Gentle explanations. Clearing misunderstandings. Convincing him that Tulip hadn't been hiding anything, that Ren was just a friend who'd overstepped.
It took hours of back-and-forth, but eventually Tejo relented.
"Fine, man. I'll let it go. But stay out of our way."
Ren typed back the hardest word he had ever written:
"Okay."
When it was done, he slumped into his pillow, hollow, drained.
Later, unable to hold it in, he called Harvey.
Harvey's voice was sharp with anger. "Ren, what the hell did I tell you? We agreed. No-contact rule. You had one job to stay away. But you just had to jump back in, didn't you? And for what? To hurt yourself again?"
Ren closed his eyes, biting back tears. "I couldn't let her suffer. She needed me."
"Needed you?" Harvey scoffed. "She doesn't need you, Ren. She chose someone else. And now you're bleeding for her while she's sleeping peacefully in another man's arms."
Ren said nothing. The truth cut too deep.
Hours later, his phone buzzed again. He reached for it, hoping it was Tulip, maybe a thank you, maybe just a single word of comfort.
But the screen told a different story.
"User not found."
He checked again. Searched her name. Nothing.
She had blocked him.
The realization sank like a stone into his chest. After everything after helping her fix what was broken, after burying his own pain for her happiness she had shut the door on him.
Ren lay in the dark, phone pressed to his chest, staring into nothing. His mind replayed every memory of her, every laugh, every promise, until it all blurred into silence.
For the first time in months, he didn't cry. He just went numb.
And somewhere deep inside, he wondered if this was how all stories ended not with a bang, not with closure, but with the quiet cruelty of being erased.