MY BOYFRIEND LEFT HIS PHONE UNLOCKED AND I SAW THE GROUP CHAT
I grabbed his phone when it buzzed for the third time, the screen lighting up my dim room with a cold, blue glow. I told myself I’d just turn it off, but his password wasn’t there — and before I could stop myself, I was scrolling.
The first message was from Jake: *“You’re still with her? Bro, you’re wasting your time.”* My stomach dropped. I could feel the weight of the phone in my hands, the edges digging into my palms. I kept reading. My boyfriend’s response was worse: *“I know, but she’s obsessed. It’s easier to just keep her around for now.”* The sound of my own breathing filled the silence, heavy and uneven.
I looked up when I heard the bathroom door open, the sound of water dripping from the shower. He walked into the room, towel around his waist, and froze when he saw me holding his phone. “What are you doing?” he asked, his voice low and cautious. I didn’t hesitate. “Am I just a placeholder until you find something better?” The words spilled out, shaky but loud.
He didn’t even deny it. Just stood there, water still dripping onto the carpet, and said, “It’s not that simple.”
Then his phone buzzed again, and this time, it was a picture of HER.
👇 *Full story continued in the comments…*The image swam into focus: a girl, laughing, arm slung casually around Jake’s shoulder. My blood ran cold. “Her?” I choked out, the word barely audible.
He ran a hand through his wet hair, leaving his face vulnerable. “Look, I didn’t mean for this to happen.”
“Didn’t mean for what? To hurt me? To lie to me? To… to what?!” The words clawed their way up my throat, each one a shard of broken trust. The phone felt like a physical weight now, a burden I desperately wanted to shed.
“It’s complicated,” he repeated, a weak attempt at explanation.
I felt a strange detachment wash over me. The anger was still there, simmering beneath the surface, but it was overshadowed by a profound sadness, a deep sense of betrayal. I looked at the picture again, really looked at her. She was beautiful, yes, but more than that, she seemed happy, carefree. The opposite of how I felt at that moment.
I took a shaky breath, trying to collect myself. “So, what now?” I asked, my voice remarkably steady.
He shifted his weight, avoiding my gaze. “I… I don’t know.”
“Well, I do,” I said, my voice firming with newfound resolve. “I’m done.” I walked towards the bed, grabbing my purse and keys.
“Wait,” he said, reaching out a hand, but I flinched away.
“Don’t,” I said, my voice sharp. “Don’t touch me.”
I turned and walked out of the room, out of the apartment, out of his life. The cool night air hit my face, and I took a deep breath. The world felt clearer, brighter, even with the sting of tears pricking my eyes. I wasn’t sure where I was going, but I knew I was going somewhere better. Somewhere I wouldn’t be a placeholder.
I walked towards the street, the phone still in my hand. I paused, then, with a surge of finality, I deleted the group chat. Then, I switched it off and dropped the phone into a nearby trash can. A small act of defiance, a final severing of ties. As I walked away, I knew I was finally free. And maybe, just maybe, that was the start of something real.