You smile when you see her name light up his phone — again. You laugh along when he tells you about their inside jokes, the ones you weren’t around for. The ones they built long before you ever came into the picture.

He tells you she’s like a sister. But sisters don’t look at someone like that.

You’ve seen it — that softness in her eyes when he talks. That way she leans in when he laughs, like she’s chasing the sound. And worse — you’ve seen the way he lights up around her. Not just happy. Not just comfortable. Home.

And maybe that’s what kills you the most.

Because you’re here, trying so hard to be everything he needs, while she just exists — and it’s enough.

You hate the way it makes you feel: petty, jealous, insecure. You’re not supposed to compete with someone he says is “just a friend.” You’re not supposed to feel like you're constantly in second place. But no matter what you do, she’s always there. In his stories. In his memories. In his smile.

You tell yourself to trust him. You do. But trust doesn’t stop the ache.

One night, Jason is on the bed with you in his arms as he chatted with his girl bestfriend Lrya, again.