"Did you like her in the morning?"

It’s past midnight when Bree finally gives up on sleep.

The room is dark, too quiet, the kind of silence that lets thoughts grow teeth. She lies on her side staring at nothing, chest tight, throat burning, eyes aching from holding tears back for too long.

Her phone is warm in her hand.

She doesn’t even know who she’s texting at first — just that she needs the words out before they choke her.

I hate nights, she types.

I really do.

Three dots appear. Then disappear. She keeps going anyway.

My brain won’t shut up.

It keeps replaying things that aren’t even mine.

Her fingers shake.

I picture you waking up next to her.

And I don’t want to.

But I can’t stop.

A tear slips down the bridge of her nose and into her hair. She presses her lips together, stifling the sound in her throat.

Did you like her in the morning?

She freezes after typing it, heart slamming against her ribs. The words look ugly on the screen. Small. Insecure.

She deletes them.

Then types them again.

Did it feel easy with her?

Did you wake up already sure?

Her vision blurs. She curls in on herself, knees pulled to her chest like she’s trying to protect something fragile inside.

I know it’s unfair.

I know I shouldn’t think like this.

But every night I feel like I’m fighting someone who isn’t even here.

Her breathing turns uneven.

I’m scared I’m just filling a space she left.

I’m scared you’ll wake up one day and realize you miss that version of your life more than me.

Her thumb hovers over the screen.

I love you, she types.

Even when it hurts this bad.

She locks her phone and presses it to her chest like it might steady her heart. The tears come quietly now, soaking into the pillow as she bites down on her sleeve to keep from making a sound.

The worst part isn’t the jealousy.

It’s the fear that loving this deeply might still not be enough.

And so Bree lies there in the dark, breaking silently, hoping morning will come before her thoughts tear her apart completely.

I hate retroactive jealousy too