You Left, I Could Have Fixed Us

Maya's POV  "You're pathetic, Maya. Still crying over me?" The words burned across my phone screen like fire. Alvarez's message glared at me, sharp and cruel, and for a second, I thought I could hear his low, teasing voice slipping through the walls of my apartment. My body reacted before my mind could stop it, heat pooling deep in my belly, twisting frustration into something darker. I held the phone tight, my fingers trembling. My chest rose and fell fast, my breath uneven. My hands shook, but I didn't drop it. I hated how his words still made me ache, made my body remember him, made me want him even as I hated him. "Bastard," I whispered, tossing the phone onto the couch. I buried my face in my hands, pressing my palms against my eyes, trying to push away the sting of tears and the ache between my thighs that made me tremble. A knock rattled my door, soft at first, then louder. "Maya, open up. I know you're in there." It was Leah. I dragged myself across the room, wiped my eyes with the back of my sleeve, and pulled the door open. Leah's eyes darted to my face, catching the redness I couldn't hide. She sighed, brushing past me without asking for permission. "You've been crying again." I closed the door behind her, my voice low. "I'm fine." "No, you're not." Leah turned, hands on her hips, her gaze sharp. "He texted you again, didn't he?" I stayed silent, my thighs shifting under the weight of my own tension. "Maya, stop protecting him," she pressed. "What did he say?" "It doesn't matter." My voice cracked, betraying me, and my hand itched to touch myself, to chase the heat Alvarez always left behind. Leah stepped closer, grabbing my shoulders and forcing me to look at her. Her face softened, but her tone didn't. "It matters to me. You don't see what he's doing to you. He's cutting into you, over and over, and you just... You take it." The weight of her words pressed on me, and at the same time, so did the ache deep inside me. My fingers twitched against the soft fabric of my pyjamas, brushing over myself, imagining his hands there, his lips, his eyes. Tears spilt down my cheeks before I could stop them. "Do you think I wanted this? Do you think I wanted him to cheat? To call me pathetic? To make me feel like I'm nothing?" Leah's own eyes glistened, and her voice broke. "No. I don't. But it kills me to watch you let him do this." She pulled me into her arms, wrapping me tight. My body trembled against hers, but my thoughts were elsewhere, on Alvarez, on the way he would smirk as I shivered beneath him. I wanted to believe her. I wanted to believe there was more for me than Alvarez, but even as I hugged Leah back, my fingers brushed my inner thighs under the blanket. I felt the heat in me coil tighter, aching, reminding me how much I still wanted him despite everything. The next morning, the café felt like the only place I could breathe. The hiss of the espresso machine, the chatter of customers, the warm smell of roasted beans-it wrapped around me like a shield, keeping the ache at bay for a moment. But the mask didn't last. Zara showed up just before noon, sliding into her usual spot at the counter. Her ponytail swayed as she tilted her head, her sharp eyes narrowing at me. "You didn't answer my calls last night." I avoided her stare, busying myself with wiping down the counter. "I was tired." "Don't lie." Zara's voice was calm but firm. "You were crying again." I froze, cloth in hand. Slowly, I looked up. "You sound like Leah." "Good," she shot back. "She's right. This is destroying you." My chest tightened. My hand itched under the counter, brushing myself lightly, heat spreading as I remembered Alvarez's hands on me, rough and teasing. "I can handle it," I muttered, my voice weak even to me. "No, you can't." Zara leaned closer, lowering her voice so the customers wouldn't hear. "Maya, I've known you since we were kids. You think I don't notice? You've lost weight. Your smile looks forced. You move like you're carrying a hundred pounds on your back. This isn't you." Her words hit me harder than I expected. I swallowed, throat dry, and my fingers trembled, brushing over myself. The memory of his smirk, the way his fingers would curl inside me, made me gasp softly. "He texted me," I whispered, breath hitching. Zara's eyes sharpened. "And?" I looked down at the counter, ashamed. "He called me pathetic." Her hand slammed against the wood, making the spoon in her cup clatter. A man at the corner table looked up, startled, before returning to his laptop. "That's it. I'm done watching this. You're blocking his number today. No excuses." "I can't just" "Yes, you can." Zara's voice trembled with anger. My fingers brushed against myself faster, needing the fire Alvarez always sparked in me. "If you don't, he'll never stop. He'll drag you lower and lower until you can't climb back out." Her words echoed in my head long after she left. Every buzz of my phone made my stomach tighten. My hand slid between my thighs, tracing heat, remembering his touch, the way he could make me shiver and gasp with just a look. That evening, dinner with my family felt like walking into a room full of unspoken truths. My mom moved quietly, placing bowls of rice and stew in front of us. Her eyes flickered to me often, lingering as though she wanted to ask but didn't know how. My dad tried to keep the mood light, telling a clumsy story about a man at work who mixed up reports. I forced a laugh, but it came out hollow. My hand brushed my thighs under the table, remembering Alvarez, imagining him leaning over me, his hands heavy and rough, making me shiver. Leah sat beside me, her hand brushing mine under the table every so often, a silent reminder that she was there. It only made my body ache more, the ache for him and the shame for feeling it so intensely. After we finished eating, she leaned close. "Promise me you won't go back to him." Her words were soft, but they stabbed through me. My fingers itched beneath the table, curling against the warmth in me. I stared at the tablecloth, tracing the faded pattern with my finger. My voice was barely a whisper. "I don't know what I'm doing anymore." Leah squeezed my hand harder. "Then let me help you figure it out. Please." I wanted to say yes. I wanted to promise her. But the words stuck in my throat. Later, alone in my room, I gave in. I unlocked my phone and scrolled through the messages. Alvarez's words were waiting, sharp and poisonous. You're nothing without me. Don't act like you're better. You'll come back. You always do. Each one hit like a blade. My chest ached, my breath uneven. I pressed the phone to my chest, tears streaming freely, and my hand slid under the blanket, touching myself. The memory of him, his cruel smirk, the brush of his fingers, made me shiver and gasp. I imagined him here, hovering over me, watching me, teasing me until I couldn't hold back. My fingers moved faster, heat pooling and spilling through me as I whispered his name into the darkness. My body trembled with want and shame, aching for the one who had hurt me most. Leah's pleading, Zara's anger, my mother's silence, all of it swirled in my head, mixing with the memory of Alvarez's smile, the warmth of his arms, the sound of his laugh when it was still mine. I pressed my hand to my chest, breathless, skin flushed, whispering into the darkness, "I could have fixed us." And maybe the worst part was that a small, broken part of me still believed it.