I told myself I was over it.
Or at least… getting there.
I didn't think about him as much.
Didn't wait for him.
Didn't notice every little thing the way I used to.
Or at least, that's what I wanted to believe.
Because something had changed.
After everything—
After the questions, the silence, the confusion—
It didn't feel the same anymore.
And maybe that was a good thing.
Maybe I was finally moving on.
But then—
Why did it still bother me?
Aisha turning back again.
Laughing at something he said.
Praveena sitting right next to him, leaning closer, talking like she belonged there.
I told myself not to look.
And still—
I did.
Again.
And again.
And again.
And then, a few days later…
Maria told me something.
Not immediately.
Not when it happened.
Later.
Carefully.
Like she didn't know how I'd react.
"Hey…" she started, hesitating a little. "I didn't tell you before because I thought it might hurt you."
I frowned. "What?"
She looked at me for a second before continuing.
"Jamie said something… that day."
My chest tightened slightly.
"What did she say?"
Maria sighed softly.
"She told me… that you don't look good beside him."
For a second—
I didn't react.
And then it hit.
"What?" I said, sharper than I expected.
Maria quickly added, "I didn't react or anything, I just acted normal so she wouldn't suspect anything."
I nodded.
But I wasn't really listening anymore.
Because that one sentence—
It stayed.
You don't look good beside him.
It kept repeating in my head.
Over.
And over.
And over again.
I didn't even realise how angry I was at first.
But it was there.
Not loud.
Not obvious.
Just… building.
Because who was she to say that?
And why did it bother me so much?
I told myself it didn't matter.
That it was just an opinion.
That I shouldn't care.
But I did.
More than I wanted to admit.
And the worst part?
I couldn't stop thinking about it.
For days.
No—
For the entire week.
Every time I saw him.
Every time I saw them.
Every time Aisha laughed with him.
Every time Praveena leaned closer.
That one sentence came back.
You don't look good beside him.
And suddenly—
Everything felt different.
All those moments.
All those thirty-six.
I started questioning them.
Maybe I imagined everything.
Maybe I made it bigger than it was.
Maybe there was never anything there to begin with.
Because if there was…
Would people say things like that?
I tried to convince myself again.
"I don't like him."
And this time…
It almost felt true.
But not completely.
Because even after everything—
Even after the anger.
Even after the overthinking.
I still noticed.
I still looked.
And I still felt that small, unwanted feeling—
Jealousy.
And that was the part I couldn't explain.