Here Comes The Girlfriend

“He has a girlfriend,” I whispered to Jess, my dearest companion, as I absentmindedly twirled a strand of hair around my finger, my gaze fixed on the ceiling above. She's the only friend I've truly connected with. Making friends has never been easy for me, but with Jess, it was instantaneous. Our bond, forged over four years, has made us inseparable. Usually, she's the one who visits me at Atlas's place, but today I find myself at her house, unable to bear the idea of staying home while Atlas's girlfriend moves in today.

Jess let out a weary sigh, her eyes briefly leaving the pages of her book to meet mine. "You've been repeating that for a fortnight now, Harper," she remarked, her tone tinged with gentle exasperation, before diving back into her literary world.

She's correct. I've been avoiding the truth for the past two weeks. I've attempted to steel myself for the moment I catch sight of Atlas with her, yet I've been unable to confront it. Today marks the culmination of my dread – the day she moves in. Atlas had suggested I meet her beforehand, but I concocted excuses about projects and impending finals, dissuading him from arranging a dinner with his girlfriend. I couldn't bear the thought of facing her. It would only serve to shatter my heart further.

Reclining on the bed with my feet planted against the wall, I felt the warmth of the day seeping through my cotton shorts and plain pink t-shirt. Blinking slowly, I finally spoke after a moment's hesitation. "Her name is Eva," I murmured.

Jess let out another sigh, lowering her book to peer at me over the rim of her glasses. "I know, Harper. You've mentioned that before," she replied gently.

A lump formed in my throat as I stared vacantly at the ceiling, the mere thought of Atlas with another woman igniting a blaze of anguish within me. My eyes stung with unshed tears, my heart constricting painfully in my chest while my trembling lower lip betrayed my inner turmoil. As tears welled up, blurring my vision, a solitary droplet escaped, trailing down my cheek and nestling into my hair. Jess, ever perceptive, noticed my distress.

With a sympathetic click of her tongue, she set her book aside and addressed me tenderly. "Harps," she began, straightening up, "I know you're hurting, darling, but you have to confront reality. Atlas can never return your love." Her honesty, usually appreciated, now pierced like a dagger, exacerbating the ache in my chest.

I met Jess's gaze, tears streaming down my cheeks despite my efforts to contain them. With a shaky breath, I confessed in a hushed tone, "And... she's moving in with us today."

Jess's expression softened in empathy, her lips forming a sympathetic pout. "Oh, Harps," she murmured, enfolding me in a comforting embrace. "It'll be alright. Just nine more months, and you'll finally be free from there. Once you're away from Atlas, you'll find the strength to move forward. I promise, there's someone incredible out there waiting for you."

I sniffled, returning Jess's embrace gratefully. Her presence always brought a sense of solace unlike any other. She was the sole confidante among my friends privy to my feelings for my guardian, yet she never offered hollow assurances, only genuine comfort.

With a sigh, I brushed the tears from my cheeks, mustering the courage to ask, "Can I stay with you tonight? I just... I don't want to go home."

Jess's smile widened, radiating warmth. "Of course, Harps. You're always welcome here," she assured me tenderly.

Jess and I crossed paths on the bustling orientation day of our university, both embarking on our journey toward a bachelor's degree in psychology. While my parents had the foresight to establish a dedicated college fund, affording me the opportunity to attend one of the state's premier universities, Jess and I find ourselves now in the throes of our third year. With the final year looming ahead, Jess has already charted her course toward clinical psychology, whereas I remain undecided.

For now, my primary focus is on completing my degree and extricating myself from the confines of Atlas's household. Last year, Jess and I delved into community psychology internships, a shared experience that shaped our understanding of the field. Yet, as Jess sets her sights on clinical psychology, I find myself still navigating the myriad possibilities.

Atlas, ever observant, sees potential in me for forensic psychology, citing my penchant for consuming all things related to criminal psychology in books and on screen. While his insight holds weight, I continue to grapple with the uncertainty of my future path.

"Oh, and guess what," Jess announced with a mischievous glint in her eye, "Patrick's dropping by for a week tomorrow." Her sly wink added an extra layer of intrigue to her revelation. Despite her outward appearance – thick glasses, petite stature, always clutching a book – those who truly know Jess understand her devilish side.

I couldn't help but chuckle and roll my eyes. Patrick, her older brother, resided in another state, diligently pursuing his path toward becoming a lawyer. But for me, he held another significance – we used to date. One day, Patrick had to leave for another city to continue his studies. We had a deep respect and affection for each other, but it wasn’t enough to put our lives on hold indefinitely. So, we mutually decided to break up. Despite this, Patrick and I remained on good terms. We aren’t friends anymore, but whenever we see each other, we are always civil and pleasant. There are no hard feelings between us.

I’m not even sure why we got into a relationship in the first place. I guess I was trying to get over Atlas and distract myself from him. Patrick has always been quite mysterious to me. Even after we started seeing each other, I couldn’t fully understand him. We enjoyed each other’s company, but we were never in love. It felt like neither of us truly tried to make it more than it was. I was trying to heal my broken heart, and he seemed to be mending his own.

Despite spending over a year together, I don’t know much about Patrick. There was no real spark between us. We were more like physical and emotional support for each other. While Patrick and I know we can never fall in love with each other, Jess believes otherwise. She still hopes for us to get back together, but I know that chapter of my life is firmly closed.

I spent the night at Jess's place, my phone turned off to avoid any distractions. Before shutting it down, I fired off a brief message to Atlas:

"Hey. Don’t wait up for me. I'm crashing at Jess's tonight. We've got some projects to tackle, so I'll be off the grid. Catch you later."

I didn't stick around for his response, preferring to cut off communication altogether. With Eva's imminent move-in weighing heavily on my mind, I was determined to keep my distance from Atlas for the next nine months.

Fortunately, Jess and I had no classes the following day, allowing us to indulge in a late-night spree of cooking, laughter, drinks, and movies. We eventually succumbed to sleep, but when I woke the next morning, the hangover hit hard. With noon fast approaching, I quietly gathered my belongings, careful not to disturb Jess, and made my way back to Atlas's abode.

My head pounded mercilessly as I drove, the lingering scent of wine a stark reminder of last night's indulgence. Hoping to evade any awkward encounters, I prayed that both Atlas and Eva were out, likely occupied with their work responsibilities. It was the perfect opportunity for me to slip in, shower, change, and plot my next move away from the confines of their shared space.

As I arrived home, the sight of Atlas greeted me, his expression notably sour. As I stealthily made my way inside, he descended the stairs with a scowl etched on his face, signaling trouble ahead. His demeanor was stern, his attire crisp and professional, indicating he was likely on his way to work. Eva, however, was conspicuously absent, a fact for which I was silently grateful. I had no desire to face her in my current disheveled state – still clad in shorts and a t-shirt adorned with a conspicuous wine stain, my hair haphazardly tied in a messy bun, and my shoes dangling from my hand rather than adorning my feet.

Atlas's penetrating gaze swept over my disarrayed appearance before he crossed his arms, his tone laced with sharpness and sarcasm. "So, you were busy with a project, huh? Did drinking happen to be part of the assignment?" His words cut through the air, heavy with admonishment.

I averted my eyes, feeling small and powerless under Atlas's stern gaze. Despite being an adult capable of standing up for myself, at that moment, with my head pounding and his disapproving stare bearing down on me, I found myself paralyzed, unable to muster the courage to defend my actions.

He let out a heavy sigh, disappointment evident in his voice as he shook his head. "I'm truly disappointed in you, Harper," he admonished, prompting me to meet his gaze. "I specifically mentioned that Eva would be moving in, and I hoped we could all share a meal together. Yet, instead of being here with us, you chose to spend the evening with your friends, drinking, which you could have done any other day. Do you realize how anxious Eva has been about gaining your approval? While she fretted over your opinion, you were off enjoying yourself with your friends. She may not hold significance to you, but she does to me. Even if not for her, I expected a little consideration for my feelings. How can you be so selfish?" His words pierced through me, stinging with the truth.

Swallowing the lump forming in my throat, I cast my gaze downward, glossy-eyed and remorseful.

"You're an adult, Harper, it's high time you started behaving like one," Atlas chided, his disappointment palpable in his voice as he strode past me, exiting the house with a resounding slam of the door.

Tears welled in my eyes as I hurriedly retrieved my phone, powering it on to send a message to Patrick, whom I hadn’t seen in a while: "I know you're returning today. Can we meet?”

I’m not exactly sure why I asked Patrick to meet me, but I did. I guess I needed someone who wouldn’t judge me or offer unwanted sympathy while I grappled with the reality that Atlas could never be mine.

Patrick's response came swiftly, offering a glimmer of solace: "Of course, I'll see you tonight."