He Wouldn’t Let Me Touch His Door, But She Wore His Shirt Chapter 03

He Wouldn’t Let Me Touch His Door, But She Wore His Shirt Chapter 03

Three days after the breakup.

Valerie asked me out to lunch, but the atmosphere felt entirely off.

She hesitated for a long time, poking at the rice in her bowl with her chopsticks before finally speaking up.

“Jo, Alyssa told me… you broke up with Julian because you were jealous of her?”

My hands froze mid-air.

Valerie handed her phone across the table to show me their text history.

Alyssa had sent three long voice messages that had been transcribed into text.

[Valerie, Joanna completely misunderstood why I’m crashing at Dr. Sterling’s place. She called me so many horrible names, I’m honestly terrified. I only stayed there because I had nowhere else to go, I didn’t do anything…]

I hadn’t even spoken a single word to her.

We hadn’t even had a confrontation.

She had completely fabricated a scene where I verbally abused her.

“Valerie, do you believe her or do you believe me?”

Valerie looked conflicted. “Of course I believe you, Jo. But she is my employee, and honestly, Julian called me too. He said you haven’t been in a good headspace lately and asked me to look out for you.”

Julian was controlling the narrative behind my back.

He was laying the groundwork to make everyone think our breakup was just me throwing an irrational tantrum.

At 3:00 PM, an unknown number called my phone.

It was the head nurse from Julian’s department, a woman who treated him like a younger brother.

Her tone carried the suffocating concern of an elder. “Joanna, Julian told me you two are having a little fight? He’s been under massive pressure with surgeries lately, so don’t be too stubborn. You know how he is with his clean-freak tendencies…”

He had successfully packaged our breakup as a petty lover’s quarrel, mobilizing his professional network to do damage control on his behalf.

I hung up the phone, my hands shaking.

I texted Julian directly. [Stop sending your people to look for me. I said we are broken up, I’m not throwing a temper tantrum.]

He replied instantly. [Joanna, calm down. You’re making things very difficult for me. I can ask Alyssa to move out, but you can’t throw away three years of history over someone completely irrelevant.]

Someone completely irrelevant.

Someone who lives in your apartment, wears your clothes, uses your tub, and rides shotgun in your car.

I didn’t text back.

At 10:00 PM, Valerie forwarded me another screenshot of Alyssa’s latest Instagram update.

[Had a little misunderstanding with a certain someone, but someone told me ‘I’ll handle it.’ This kind of security is honestly addictive,] the caption read.

The accompanying photo showed a man’s hand gripping her wrist.

Peeking out from his cuff was a green surgical wristband—the signature color of Julian’s department.

In the comments, someone asked, [Is that your boyfriend?]

Alyssa had replied with a blushing emoji.

It was ambiguous enough to ensure everyone would draw the exact same conclusion.

Yet Julian claimed she was irrelevant.

I screenshotted the post and saved it.

Then I opened my three-year text history with Julian, scrolling through it from the very beginning.

The number of times he had refused to let me over was uncountably high.

His lazy excuses were always the same: surgery, on call, his neat-freak habits, or just being too tired.

Every single rule he had imposed on me was etched perfectly into my memory.

Once I finished reading, I wiped it all out.

The chat history, the photos, the call logs. I left absolutely nothing behind.

I sent one last text to Valerie.

[Valerie, I won’t put you in an awkward position. But sooner or later, you’re going to see Alyssa for who she really is. When that day comes, call me. I’ll be here.]