Out with the Jerk, In with Love

The late-night high school reunion had ended, and the cold wind, laced with the smell of alcohol, hit me in the face. I tightened my coat and headed home, thinking about waiting for Mark Collins to come back so I could make him a bowl of sobering soup. He said it had been ages since he'd seen his classmates and wanted to talk a bit longer, so I left the living room light on, brewed a cup of honey water, wrapped myself in a thin blanket, and waited for him on the couch. At one a.m., the door lock finally clicked. Mark Collins pushed the door open, his steps unsteady. Besides the smell of alcohol, there was a faint trace of unfamiliar perfume—not the one I usually wore. "You're back?" I looked up at him, keeping my tone as even as I could, pushing down the strange unease rising in my chest. His eyes flickered, deliberately avoiding mine. Even changing his shoes, his hands moved a little too quickly. "Yeah, it's been a long time since we all met, so we ended up talking for a while." He reached out to grab the Honey Water on the coffee table. I was faster—picked up my phone first and tapped the screen lightly. On the screen, clear in the corner of the frame: Mark Collins standing there, and Lucy Scott—his high school first love who'd been gone five years and had just returned to the country two weeks ago—was on her tiptoes, kissing him on the lips. The angle was sharp, capturing even Lucy Scott's reddened eyes clearly. This photo was sent anonymously to my W Chat half an hour ago. Mark Collins' face turned pale instantly. He grabbed the phone, turned off the screen, his voice trembling: "Sophia, listen to me, it's not what you think." "Then what is it?" I looked up at him, a cold emptiness settling inside. My voice was calm—so calm I surprised myself—not angry, just numb and questioning. His mind raced, fumbling out a poor excuse: "It was a game at the reunion, we lost at Truth or Dare." "Truth or Dare?" I repeated it, a faint, barely noticeable smile tugging at the corner of my mouth, "Loser has to kiss their first love?" "They were making a big fuss, saying Lucy just got back to the country and asked me to play along with her for fun at the reunion." Mark Collins forced himself to keep going, the panic in his voice impossible to hide. I was silent for a few seconds before standing up and handing him the cup of Honey Water. "Drink this to sober up, get some rest early." Some things don't need to be said; the answer was already clear in my heart. He thought I believed him, relaxed, and downed it in one gulp. Lying in bed that night, he tentatively moved closer to me. I instinctively slid toward the edge, deliberately keeping my distance. "Sophia?" He called my name and reached out to hold me. I gently pulled away, turning my back to him, my voice carrying a trace of distance: "I'm a little tired." In the dark, I could feel his hand freeze mid-air. I knew clearly that from the moment that photo was sent, some things would never go back to the way they were.