He Said I Was NOBODY, But Now He’s Begging For My Love Letter Chapter 12

He Said I Was NOBODY, But Now He’s Begging For My Love Letter Chapter 12

Comments exploded. 

Random A: [She’s a legend!] 

Random B: [Seven? Actual time–management queen.] 

Random C: [Pretty, but what a waste.] 

Random D: [Does anyone know her? Is she always like this?] 

Random E: [No way–one guy I know! The Porsche guy is my 

old boss’s son!] 

Random F: [Hope she doesn’t get away with this and find 

some nice person to trick.] 

Shares skyrocketed. 

Elara’s social media was doxxed. 

Photos, school, workplace. Even the street photos from her 

travels were dug up and posted. 

My hands shook. 

I never thought she’d actually get caught. 

But I never wanted this to happen. 

I called her. No answer. 

I called again. Still nothing. 

I opened our chat. 

Lila: [Elara, are you okay?] 

Lila: [Please answer your phone. I’m so worried.] 

Still no reply. 

I jumped to my feet and checked flights from Southfield to 

Eastbrook. 

The earliest was at 5 p.m. 

I booked it right away. 

I lost count of how many times I called. 

Finally, she answered. 

Her voice wasn’t the lazy, confident tone I knew. It was 

shaky, broken, like I’d never heard before. 

Elara was falling apart. 

“Lila…” 

“I’m here,” I said. “Elara, don’t panic. I’m here.” 

“What do I do?” Her voice cracked. 

“Everyone knows. My parents saw it. They called and cursed 

1. me. I don’t know what to do.” 

A quiet sob came through the line. 

Elara was crying. 

In four years of friendship, I’d never seen her cry. 

I stood on a busy Southfield street. Sunshine and warm wind 

surrounded me. 

But my heart sank. 

“Elara, listen to me,” I said, keeping my voice steady. 

“I booked a flight for 5 p.m. I’ll be there tonight. Stay inside. 

Lock your door. Don’t open it for anyone.” 

“You’re… coming here?” She sounded fragile, disbelieving. 

“Yeah.” 

“But you have work-” 

“I’ll take a few days off,” I cut in. 

“Stop talking. Wait for me.” 

I hung up and took several deep breaths, only then I didn’t 

break down crying in public. 

Elara wasn’t perfect. 

But she’d always been good to me. 

I texted my supervisor for three days off, family emergency. 

My supervisor approved it without questions. 

I packed a few things and took a taxi to the airport. 

The flight took off on time. 

I sat by the window, watching clouds pile up. 

I thought about the day we met freshman year. 

I’d moved from a small Southern city and knew no one. 

On club recruitment day, I stood alone on the field, not 

knowing which way to go.. 

Elara walked up casually. 

“Hey, you’re a freshman too? Wanna check out the dance 

club with me?” 

She had such a pretty smile. Eyes curved like crescent 

moons. 

Impossible not to like her. 

The plane landed at 8:30 p.m. I took a taxi straight to her 

apartment. 

She’d added my fingerprint to her lock before. 

The door opened easily. 

She was curled up on the couch, hair messy, eyes swollen shut. 

Takeout boxes and empty beer cans covered the coffee 

table. 

Curtains were drawn tight. The whole apartment felt like a 

dark cage. 

When she saw me, her lips trembled. 

Tears fell again. 

“Lila…” 

I walked over and sat down, pulling her into my arms 

without saying a word. 

She buried her face in my shoulder and sobbed, shaking like 

a little hurt animal. 

I patted her back gently, like she’d done for me when I was 

sad. 

“It’s okay. I’m here.” 

“Am I a terrible person?” she cried. 

“Should I just die?” 

I didn’t know how to answer. 

“You can’t. The people who doxxed you did something 

worse.” 

“Do you think I’m disgusting too?” she asked with red eyes. 

I paused for two seconds. 

“No,” I said. “I just think you’re being stupid.” 

Elara blinked with a confused expression. 

“You didn’t have to do this,” I said, looking her in the eyes. 

“You wouldn’t have to juggle guys to be liked.” 

“Elara, you’re amazing. Messing up isn’t the end. Admit it and do better.” 

She didn’t reply. 

She just pressed her face into my shoulder and shook. 

That night, I cleaned her messy living room. 

I uninstalled all her social media apps. 

I cooked two bowls of plain noodle soup. 

She sat at the table, eating quietly, head down. 

“The worst part,” she mumbled halfway through, “is that Elias saw it too.”