Chapter 3: Old Wounds, New Threats

"Your first love, Caleb, is getting married."

Derek came out of the bathroom with just a towel, his tone dripping with mockery.

He leaned against the doorframe, water dripping from his hair. The mirror behind him was fogged, reflecting us like ghosts. He knew exactly how to push my buttons. The towel clung to his hips, and I rolled my eyes, refusing to let him see me react.

He dried his hair in wild, lazy movements, water droplets tracing down his abs and disappearing into places that made my imagination run wild.

He always acted like he was in a music video—every gesture exaggerated, every move designed for attention. Even now, after all this time, I couldn’t help but notice how good he looked. It made me angry, because I knew it was just another weapon.

"To Natalie."

He paused, waiting for my reaction.

He let the words hang in the air, a smirk playing at the corner of his mouth. He wanted me to flinch, to show I still cared. I focused on the mug of coffee in my hands, letting the warmth ground me.

"What’s that got to do with me?"

Not getting the response he wanted, he leaned in, amusement flickering in his eyes.

He moved closer, invading my space. I could smell his shampoo, mixed with last night’s cologne. He searched my face for a crack in my armor, but I kept my expression blank.

"We have to go give our congratulations. After all, you once risked your life to protect him."

He said it with a mocking lilt, the memory twisted for his amusement. The past was never far away, and Derek loved to twist the knife. I clenched my fists under the table, refusing to react.

"Say… what if I gave him those videos of you as a wedding gift? How about that?"

He dangled the threat, enjoying my discomfort. I felt the blood drain from my face, but I forced myself to meet his gaze. I wouldn’t let him see me break.

"Psycho."

Sensing the tremor in my voice, Derek smiled like the devil who’d just pulled off a prank.

He grinned, all teeth and malice. I hated how he could read me so easily. In that moment, I wished I could disappear—melt into the floor, run far away, anything but face him.

"Yeah, glare at me like that—you had the same look in your eyes in those videos back then…"

His words echoed in my head, a sick reminder of everything he’d done. I wanted to scream, to hit him, to make him feel a fraction of my pain. Instead, I swallowed my anger and bit back tears. I wouldn’t give him the satisfaction.

……

Come to think of it, what was Caleb to me, really?

Sometimes, late at night, I’d stare at the ceiling and wonder if I’d ever really loved him, or if he was just the idea of safety. He was the boy I watched from across the cafeteria, the one who smiled at everyone, even me. In a sea of cruelty, he was a life raft, even if he never knew it.

Back in school, I handed a pink love letter to a boy I admired.

It was stupid and sweet—the kind of thing you see in teen movies. I spent hours picking out the right stationery, practicing my handwriting. I slipped the letter into his locker before first period, heart pounding so hard I thought I’d faint. It was the bravest thing I’d ever done.

The next day, Natalie dragged me into the girls’ bathroom and dumped a bucket of ice water over my head.

She waited until the hallway was empty, her heels clicking like a warning. She cornered me by the sinks, her friends blocking the door. The water was ice-cold, soaking my thrift-store jeans and plain tee. The shock stole my breath, but I didn’t cry. I wouldn’t give her the satisfaction.

"Secretly crushing on Caleb? You think you deserve him?"

She slapped me hard, the sting burning.

Her nails left little crescents on my cheek. The force made my ears ring. She looked at me with pure hatred, as if liking Caleb was a crime. The tiles were cold beneath my bare feet, the fluorescent lights buzzing overhead. I stood my ground.

That’s when Derek kicked open the door.

He always made an entrance, even in high school. Shirt half-buttoned, tie askew, hair falling in his eyes. He took in the scene with a smirk, like he’d been waiting for it. The girls scattered, but he didn’t care. He locked eyes with me, a strange amusement flickering there.

His shirt hung loose, his eyes swept over my soaked blouse and bra, and he let out a whistle.

He didn’t offer me his jacket or a kind word. Instead, he laughed—a cold, cruel sound echoing off the tiles. I wanted the ground to swallow me. I wrapped my arms around myself, shivering.

"Call me ‘big bro’ and I’ll help you get revenge."

I refused.

I looked him in the eye and shook my head. I wasn’t trading one bully for another. For a split second, I saw something like respect in his eyes, but it vanished quickly. He shrugged, as if my pain was an inconvenience.

So he and Natalie teamed up, weaving nightmare after nightmare for me.

They were popular, powerful, untouchable. Together, they made my life hell—nasty notes in my locker, rumors, cruel pranks. I survived by going numb, telling myself it would end soon.

And Caleb—he was the end of that nightmare…

He was the finish line, the hope I clung to when everything else felt hopeless. But even he couldn’t save me. When it was over, I realized he was just another chapter in a book I never wanted to write.