Jealousy

Tamara’s POV

The next evening, as I walked down the hallway leading to our room, I heard their voices. Jack and Kate were getting ready for the festival, their low murmurs carrying to me before I reached the door. Curiosity piqued, I slowed my steps, peering through the slightly ajar door.

There they were—Jack standing tall in his crisp black suit, Kate in that ghastly yellow dress I had so kindly “gifted” her. They were too close, too familiar, and I felt a surge of disgust rise in me as I watched Kate touch Jack’s arm, leaning in to whisper something in his ear. Her hand lingered on his chest, and Jack didn’t pull away.

Just as Kate tilted her head up, clearly aiming for a kiss, I decided it was time to intervene. I pushed the door open fully, stepping inside with deliberate confidence. The sound of my heels on the wooden floor made them jump apart like guilty children caught doing something they shouldn’t.

I pretended not to notice their startled expressions and plastered on a bri