Chapter 2 The Morning After

Hazel woke to the soft light of morning creeping through the curtains, her eyes swollen and puffy from a night of endless tears. She lay still for a moment, tangled in her sheets, surrounded by crumpled tissues and the heavy silence of the room. The weight of last night lingered in the air, pressing down on her chest, reminding her that this wasn't some bad dream.

Her phone lay face down on the nightstand, untouched. She had turned it to silent after Michael last message-an empty apology she hadn't bothered to read fully. She didn't need to. She already knew there was nothing left to say.

She pulled her knees to her chest and stared blankly at the wall. It was the kind of morning where everything felt off, as if the world had shifted beneath her feet and left her standing in the wreckage.

Hazel's gaze drifted to the nightstand where an empty ice cream tub sat abandoned. She winced at the sight of it. The late-night binge hadn't dulled the pain, and now it just felt pathetic. The whole rom-com and ice cream routine was a cliché, one she'd fallen right into, and somehow, that made it worse. It hadn't fixed anything, only made her feel like she was playing a part in some scripted heartbreak.

She had to get up. Staying in this bed wasn't going to fix anything.

With a heavy sigh, she threw the blanket off and swung her legs over the edge of the bed. The cold air hit her skin as she stood, making her shiver, but she pushed herself toward the bathroom. Her steps felt sluggish, her mind foggy from exhaustion and emotional overload.

Once inside, she turned on the shower and let the water run hot, waiting for the steam to fill the small space. As the sound of rushing water filled the air, she stripped off her wrinkled pajamas, catching a glimpse of herself in the mirror. Hazel looked away quickly, not ready to face herself just yet.

She stepped into the shower, letting the hot water cascade over her body, washing away the remnants of last night. As the water hit her skin, she felt a slight release-just enough to remind her that she was still here, still standing, even if everything else had fallen apart.

After a while, the tension in her shoulders began to ease, and she closed her eyes, breathing deeply as the warmth enveloped her. For the first time since the breakup, she allowed herself a moment of clarity, free from the weight of heartbreak.

But when the water finally began to cool, reality crept back in. Hazel wrapped herself in a towel and padded back to the mirror. This time, she forced herself to look. Her reflection stared back at her, and for a moment, she felt like a stranger. Her skin looked pale, her hair limp and unruly. The dark circles beneath her eyes told the story of sleepless nights and emotional exhaustion. She felt hollow, like a shadow of the woman she used to be.

And then, without wanting to, her thoughts drifted to Stacey.

Stacey.

She was everything Hazel wasn't. Hazel could see her so clearly now-tall, slim, with perfectly smooth skin and that effortless, glowing confidence that always made people gravitate toward her. Stacey was the kind of woman who turned heads, who made everything look easy. And now, she had Michael.

Hazel's eyes lingered on her own reflection, comparing, measuring. She knew it wasn't fair, but she couldn't help it. Stacey looked like she had everything figured out, while Hazel... she felt like she was falling apart. A mess of emotions, insecurities, and doubts.

She wrapped the towel tighter around her body, trying to hold herself together. She didn't have Stacey's kind of beauty. She didn't have that same polished perfection, the kind that made men chase after you and never look back. She was real, raw, flawed-and now, more than ever, she felt those flaws like they were carved into her skin.

Her fingers touched the edge of the mirror, and she looked herself straight in the eyes. Why wasn't I enough?

The question lingered in the air, unanswered. The truth was, she'd never know. Maybe it wasn't about her at all, maybe it was just him. Or maybe, deep down, she had been too afraid to believe she deserved better.

Hazel sighed and turned away from the mirror, shaking off the thoughts that threatened to consume her. Comparing herself to Stacey wouldn't change anything. It wouldn't make the pain go away. It wouldn't undo the betrayal.

But she could change one thing: she could choose not to let it break her.

With that thought, Hazel dried off and got dressed, standing a little taller than she had when she woke up. She wasn't sure what her next move would be, but she knew she wasn't going to spend the rest of the day staring at her reflection, lost in self-doubt.

One step at a time, she thought. One step closer to figuring out who she was without him.