Jealousy consumes me, sharp and bitter, a poison I can't seem to shake. Every time Gabe's phone lights up or his gaze lingers somewhere else, it gnaws at me, relentlessly. It isn't fair- this isn't fair. He isn't even mine to lose, not yet, but I'm already mourning the idea of sharing him with someone else.
Cassandra. Her name lingers in my mind like a thorn, catching and tearing at every thought. I haven't even spoken to her beyond polite greetings, but I've already painted her as the woman who takes him from me. And maybe it's my fault for letting this future knowledge wrap itself around my heart like a noose, but how can I ignore it? How can I see Gabe now, so full of promise and possibility, and not think of the man he becomes, the one who leaves me behind?
I hate how she's there, even when she's not. How her presence lingers like a ghost, haunting me, reminding me that I'm temporary. That he'll leave. I'll always be the girl he abandons. The girl he forgets.
