All of the Above

As much as I tried to do everything humanly possible to distance myself from Jordan, there was still evidence that we were together some of the time. It was in the pictures. There was an entire shoe box--a little beat up, I'll admit--that I kept underneath my bed of all the pictures I hung onto throughout the years, not just ones with Jordan. I suppose I could've burned them, thrown them away, torn up my past into little tiny pieces, but I didn't.

After all, they were pretty much the only things I had left to remember it all by. My mother was only happy if a bottle of alcohol was in her hands, much how I would be in a few years if I kept it up. My father was a lost cause, and I stopped trying to make things better with him a long time ago. And my brother, he had his own life. I didn't have a single friend left from high school, which hardly bothered me. But there was a strange amount of Staal boys in the pictures that I had collected, Jordan in particular. I might not have--actually, I definitely didn't--see Jordan's presence in my life as something positive.

"What I'd do to get those moments back," I sighed. "A redo."

The photo in my hands, coincidentally, was of just Jordan and I. He was chasing me around with a hose, water spraying out of the end, as I ran across my front yard. We couldn't have been any older than twelve. The strangest part about this picture, though, was that I was smiling. It's not that I didn't smile, it's just that I hardly ever did when Jordan was around.

Sighing, I let the picture fall from my hands as I laid back on the floor.

I didn't have anymore than five minutes to myself before Ethan walked in the room. I resisted the urge to groan.

"I'm going to head to the store and get bread, if you want to come with me."

"Um," I began, sitting up to look at him as I tried to decide what I wanted to do.

"What the hell is all of this?" he asked, a very distinct edge in his voice.

"Nothing. They're just.. pictures."

"I can see that. But you separated all of the ones of you and him from all the others."

I looked down, surprised that Ethan was right. I had unknowingly gathered a pile of pictures of the two of us. And there was a disturbing amount of them.

When I brought my eyes back up to my boyfriend, I instantly wanted to hide. His eyes were cold, his jaw clenched. He was visibly angry.

"What the fuck is all of this?"

"It's," I began. "I-I don't really know.. nothing."

"That's bullshit," he spat.

Taking a deep breath, I stood up. "I don't think I love you anymore," I admitted, looking down. "Actually, I don't think I ever really loved you."

After I spoke I half expected him to hit me, but he didn't.

"What?" he breathed.

"I'm not sure that I ever-"

"I heard you," Ethan told me.

"But you asked me to repeat myself, so I was just-"

"Nicolette," he said in a harsh voice, silencing me once again. "Are you telling me that this entire relationship was just you pretending?"

"No," I answered quickly. "There were feelings for you, strong ones, even when I knew you were out fucking girls behind my back. But I think I fooled myself into thinking that I loved you, when I never really did. I fooled you too."

"How do you know about that?" he asked, shocked.

"Sometimes you forgot to cover up your tracks," I answered, shrugging. "The most obvious giveaway, though? Was when I would find underwear or bras that weren't mine. But tell me this, why'd you do it? Was it because I wasn't good enough?"

He was hesitant to answer, a sure sign that I really wasn't good enough for even an asshole like him. "I've always been attracted to you, always. Your attitude, your looks, everything. It was all real for me. I never lied when I said I loved you."

"Obviously you did, though."

He let out an aggravated sigh. "I don't know why I did what I did, in all honestly. I regret it, because I know it hurt you."

"No," I told him, shaking my head. "No, you don't regret doing it. You regret getting caught."

Silence, again. He couldn't answer me, not without lying to my face.

"Jordan was right," I whispered.

"So this is about him, isn't it?" Ethan questioned, growing angry.

"Yes, it is. I treated him like absolute shit, sort of like how you treated me, but he stuck with me because he loved me. He told me that I never got close to people because I didn't like the feeling of affection, which is why I stayed with you for so long, because I never really felt that. And I'm sorry, more sorry than I've ever been, but I just don't think you're the right person for me anymore. I wish I could've seen that a long time ago."

"You're going to run back to him now, aren't you?"

I hadn't really thought about running back to Jordan, per se, but after looking through the photos I did think about maybe finding him.

"Maybe."

"Where does that leave us then?" Ethan asked, walking over to the window and looking out.

"Isn't it obvious?"

"I don't want us to be over, Nicolette," he said as he turned back to me. "I'll change. I'll stop cheating, I'll be faithful to you. I'll love you the way a man is supposed to love a woman. I'll do anything for you. Just give me, give us a second chance, I'm begging you."

"A month ago, maybe even a week ago, I would've said yes, but not now. I gave you more than a second chance. Fuck, I gave you a hundred chances. You wasted them all, though, and I'm not giving you another one."

He sighed, nodding his head, seeming to fully understand me now. "I should probably go pack my things."

"Don't," I told him, stepping in his way. "I'll leave. You can stay here and think about me every time you have sex with some stranger in our bed, and I'll leave and never think of you again as soon as I shut the door behind me."

"Nic-"

"Stop. I'm going."

Without another look, I bent down and picked up the photographs I left scattered across the wooden floor, making sure to leave the ones of Ethan and I behind for him.