Felix's jealousy didn't just simmer—it boiled over. A few days later, they were at a small, elegant dinner party hosted by Felix's family friend, Anya, a successful entrepreneur in her thirties who had always been a bit too interested in Felix for Debbie's comfort.
Anya, tall and effortlessly glamorous, zeroed in on Felix the moment they arrived. "Felix! It's been ages," she purred, pulling him into an embrace that lingered a second too long.
Debbie felt her stomach twist, but she said nothing,
forcing a polite smile as Anya's gaze swept over her.
"And you must be Debbie," she said with a smile that didn't reach her eyes.
"Yes," Debbie replied stiffly.
Throughout the evening, Anya found every opportunity to touch Felix's arm, laugh at his jokes, and monopolize his attention. Felix, in turn, seemed all too willing to play along, his jealousy driving him to act out in ways Debbie had never seen before.
When Anya leaned in close to whisper something in Felix's ear, Debbie finally snapped. "Excuse me," she said, her voice sharp. "Felix, could you help me with something?"
Felix blinked, caught o guard by her tone. "Uh, sure."
Debbie dragged him into the hallway, her hands
trembling with anger. "What are you doing?" she
demanded.
"What do you mean?" Felix asked innocently.
"You're flirting with her right in front of me!" Debbie
hissed.
Felix's face hardened. "Oh, so now you know what it feels like?"
Debbie stared at him, stunned. "What are you talking about?"
"You think I don't notice how you light up every time
Pasco messages you?" Felix shot back. "Or how you defend him, like he's some misunderstood hero instead of the guy who broke your heart?"
"That's not fair," Debbie said, her voice shaking. "Pasco doesn't mean anything to me anymore."
"Then why are you still giving him space in your head?"
Felix challenged.