Chapter 3

Eliana POV:

A week later, with three small stitches hidden by my hair and a faint purple bruise painting my temple, I walked into Tyler's graduation party. My friends had practically dragged me out of the house, insisting I couldn't miss the last big hurrah of our high school lives.

The moment I stepped into the crowded living room, I saw them. Jax and Catalina were in the center of a laughing group, his arm draped possessively around her waist. They looked like a couple. A real one.

A few of my friends, the ones who still held out hope for us, rushed over to me.

"Ellie, what's going on?" Chloe asked, her eyes darting between me and the happy couple across the room. "Everyone's saying you two broke up. For real this time?"

I managed a small, tired smile. "Yeah. For real this time."

The words felt solid, real. Not like the shaky threats of the past.

A wave of shock rippled through my friends. "But... you guys are Jax-and-Eliana," Madison said, as if it was an immutable law of physics. "You're supposed to go to UCLA together."

"Remember freshman year when he filled your entire locker with gardenias because you said you liked the smell?" Chloe reminisced, a sad look on her face. "He told me he spent his whole allowance for a month on them."

"And what about the time he turned down a date with that senior cheerleader because he said he was 'saving all his dances for Ellie'?" another friend added.

Each memory was a tiny, sharp sting. It hurt to remember the boy he used to be, the boy who had loved me so fiercely. The past was a beautiful, sunlit memory, but the present was a cold, harsh reality. That boy was gone.

"He was great," I acknowledged, my voice quiet but firm. "But people change." I nodded my head subtly toward the other side of the room. "And as you can see, he's doing just fine. They look happy together."

My gaze met Jax's over the crowd. He'd been watching me, a complicated expression on his face. When he heard my calm declaration, his jaw tightened. He seemed to be expecting tears, a scene, a jealous outburst. Something.

Instead of looking away, he deliberately pulled Catalina closer, his hand sliding lower on her back, and whispered something in her ear that made her giggle and press her body against his.

It was a performance. A deliberate, cruel performance designed to provoke me. He was waiting for me to crack.

But I was already broken. There was nothing left to crack.

I simply turned back to my friends, a placid smile on my face, and started talking about summer plans, about New York, about anything other than him.

Out of the corner of my eye, I saw his smile falter. A flicker of uncertainty, of panic, crossed his face. This wasn't part of the script. I was supposed to be chasing him, begging him, reminding him of what he was losing. My indifference was a variable he hadn't accounted for.

I saw him start to take a step toward me, but Catalina tightened her grip on his arm, pouting up at him. He hesitated, then let out an exasperated sigh and stayed put.

Later, someone suggested a game of Truth or Dare. The bottle was spun, and the night air grew thick with a new kind of tension. Inevitably, the bottle landed on Catalina.

"Dare!" she squealed, her eyes already finding Jax in the circle.

The girl spinning the bottle, one of Catalina's new friends, smirked. "I dare you to give a real, passionate kiss to the hottest guy here."

A collective "Ooooh" went through the group. Every single eye in the circle swiveled to Jax. He was, without question, the 'hottest guy here.'

Catalina's smirk widened. She looked directly at me, her eyes glinting with malice. "Eliana, you don't mind, do you? I mean, it's just a game."

Her friend chimed in, her voice dripping with false sympathy. "She's his ex, Catalina. She doesn't get a say anymore."

The humiliation was a physical thing, a hot flush that crept up my neck. I could feel everyone's eyes on me, waiting for my reaction. I looked at Jax. His gaze was intense, burning into me. He was waiting. Daring me to object. Daring me to show that I still cared.

This was his test. His final, cruel power play. He believed that even now, I couldn't bear to see him with another girl. He thought one word of protest from me would be enough to reaffirm his control, to prove that I was still his for the taking whenever he decided he wanted me back.

I lifted my chin, my expression a mask of cool indifference. "Why would I mind?" I said, my voice clear and steady. "It has nothing to do with me."

The change in his expression was instantaneous. The smug confidence vanished, replaced by a flash of raw, unfiltered fury. His face went rigid, his jaw clenched so tight I could see the muscle jump. My indifference hadn't just surprised him; it had enraged him. It was a rejection he couldn't stomach.

A cold, humorless laugh escaped his lips. "You heard her," he said, his voice dangerously soft. He grabbed Catalina's face with a roughness that seemed to surprise even her, and crushed his mouth to hers.

It wasn't a game-like peck. It was a deep, punishing kiss, a public spectacle of possession and rage. He was kissing her, but he was trying to hurt me. The silence that fell over the group was heavy and suffocating.

I watched, my heart a leaden weight in my chest. I felt the stares of everyone, felt their pity, their morbid curiosity. It was like watching a car crash. Horrifying, but impossible to look away from.

When he finally pulled away, Catalina was breathless, her lips swollen.

Her friend, seizing the moment, asked with a wicked grin, "So, Jax? How was it? Better than you-know-who?"

Jax didn't take his eyes off me. They were dark, filled with a cold, triumphant cruelty.

"Far better," he said, his voice loud enough for everyone to hear. "Catalina is a far better kisser than Eliana ever was."