My Boyfriend Never Really Blocked His Ex Chapter 04

My Boyfriend Never Really Blocked His Ex Chapter 04

I ignored every follow-up message from Nathan, and I had no intention of dropping the charges.

But early the next morning, a phone call jolted me awake.

Vanessa’s voice was syrupy sweet with victory on the other end.

“You think calling the cops did anything, Lena? Nathan couldn’t stand to see me suffer.”

“He called his dad last night. Got me out.”

I froze.

Nathan and his deadbeat father, Clifford Sr., hadn’t spoken in over a decade. He hated that man.

That man was the deepest, most bitter scar in his heart.

Yet for Vanessa, for a measly 48-hour administrative hold, he’d swallowed his pride and begged him for help.

When I said nothing, she laughed, sharp and shrill. “How’s that for a slap in the face?”

“Girlfriend or not, Lena, I’m his first choice. I always will be.”

She hung up. A screenshot popped up on my screen.

It was his Instagram, from years ago—back when he’d set it to “close friends only.”

Back then, he posted every single day, and every post was about her—happy moments, fights, makeups.

With me? He never made it official. Said public displays were “cringey” and “immature.”

Every anniversary they’d had, he’d gone all out. Because he couldn’t handle “the little princess throwing a fit.”

For our three anniversaries, he’d missed every single one. Because Vanessa was always throwing some kind of fit.

I tried copying her once. Just once.

He frowned, impatient. “Lena, I broke up with her because I was sick of the drama. Don’t go down that road.”

I loved him too much. So I shut up and swallowed it.

Around noon, the lock clicked.

Nathan walked in bearing a huge bouquet of champagne roses.

When he spotted my half-packed suitcase by the entryway, he gave a tired, knowing smile.

“Baby. I was out of line yesterday. I didn’t mean that.”

He came closer, using that placating tone.

“I wasn’t taking her side. You know how she is. I was scared if you fought back, she’d just escalate. You’re sweet. You’d lose.”

I stared at him. It was almost funny.

A 6’1″ guy built like a gym rat was standing right there while I got my face rocked.

“So you went crawling to the one person you swore you’d never speak to. To bail her out.”

His jaw tightened at the mention of his father.

“Would I have had to do that if you hadn’t made a federal case out of it?”

“Her mom and mine have been best friends since we were kids. Now my girlfriend throws her in the drunk tank? How do you think that looks? What do you think my mom thinks of you now?”

He kept going.

“I thought you were more considerate than this, Lena. This was reckless.”

“Look, you get jealous over her. I get it. But she’s blocked. I’ve done everything I can. What else do you want from me?”

I listened to the accusations roll off his tongue. And my heart just… cooled.

Yeah, she was blocked. But he never missed a call from an unknown number. Not one.

“You need to leave.”

I said it out loud.

“I said we’re done.”

“I already told you I was sorry! Can you just let it go?”

He yanked at his collar, frustrated.

“For the hundredth time, I’m never getting back together with her. She’s too hot-tempered, and we can never work things out.”

He pulled a velvet box out of his pocket.

Inside was the ring we’d designed together.

“Once we get married, she’ll have no choice but to back off.”

“The day I got with you, I knew you’d make the perfect wife.”

I looked at the ring. The one I’d dreamed about for so long.

Now it just looked like a cold, shiny shackle.

He talked about “perfect.” He talked about “wife.” He talked about “stable.”

But he never said love.

I was about to say no when my phone rang.

It was my mom. Her voice was bright with excitement.

“Nathan came by with presents! We just confirmed the engagement date. This weekend looks perfect!”

I froze. “Mom, no. That’s too fast…”

“Sweetie, it’s been three years. Time to move forward. And you’re not going to find a better catch than him.”

She was already hanging up.

Nathan wrapped his arms around me from behind, his chin resting on my head.

“See? She’s thrilled.”

His voice turned smooth, coaxing.

“She slapped you. I get it. If it makes you feel better, you can slap me instead, as many times as you want, to make up for it. Okay?”

“Don’t let this one small thing ruin us.”

I remembered the day my mom found out she needed bypass surgery. She’d cried, holding my hand, saying, “I just worry about who’ll take care of you.”

I stood frozen, numb, as he slipped the ring onto my ring finger.

It felt like a gilded shackle, locking me in place.