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Jade
"What the fuck," I whisper, staring at the messages on his phone. "What in the actual fuck is this?" I continue, feeling my pulse escalate and heat flush my face. It has to be early morning, judging by the soft light filtering in through the curtained windows.
Dawson stirs and mumbles, but within a few seconds, his breathing evens back out, completely dead to the world.
Dawson. My Dawson. We've been together just over four years now and everything has been incredible. We're the definition of high school sweethearts, or so I thought. We met in middle school and became best friends nearly instantly. Dawson, Emily, and I became an inseparable trio, continuing our friendship into high school and college.
Though things have been a bit more complicated since we've been in college, we've maintained our friendship and still get together a couple times a week when our schedules work out.
As a matter of fact, we just saw Emily last night when she was here at our place, hanging out after a night of drinking and karaoke. We had gone out to the bar for a few hours, then crashed here, promising to take her back to her dorm in the morning. She's still here, sleeping in the guest room down the hall.
Scanning over the texts again, I take Dawson's phone and quietly slip out of bed, careful not to risk waking him. I need some space to figure out what the hell is going on. Padding on bare feet, I slide the glass door to the patio open, stepping out into the crisp morning air.
EMILY: Does she really have to know though?
DAWSON: We can't keep having these conversations, Em. She's going to find out eventually.
What conversations is he talking about? Everything prior has been deleted from his phone. As if that isn't suspicious as hell.
EMILY: Ughhhhhhh. I guess you're right. It's probably best if we're just honest with her about it now. I just don't want to lose you guys because of this whole mess...
My stomach churns, threatening to spew all of the alcohol from last night at any second. My head spins, making me feel dizzy and disoriented.
There's no way this is happening.
Locking his phone, I place it face down on the table next to me as I watch the sunrise, desperately trying to extinguish the burn in my chest and calm my pulse. Acting insane isn't going to fix anything. I just need some time to figure out what's going on and how to move forward from here.
Nearly tiptoeing, I place the phone back on Dawson's nightstand before heading for the kitchen to start a pot of coffee. While that is brewing, I put a few of the dishes away, clearing the space of any unnecessary clutter.
My mind is whirling with a trillion thoughts as I absentmindedly grab a mug from the cupboard and open the fridge door for the creamer. "Fuck!" I start, nearly jumping out of my skin, hand flying to my chest. My heart is beating erratically against my ribcage from the scare. "I didn't hear you come in."