Page 14 of Ripple Effect

And just like that, it’s over.

* * *

The silence Loganleaves behind rings through the apartment, making the walls feel colder, the light dimmer. Like he’s taken with him all the warmth, all the vibrancy, leaving behind a stark, empty shell.

The reality of the situation hits me hard. My body feels numb, the weight of the heartbreak rendering me immobile. I sink onto the couch, folding myself into a tight ball, as if trying to shield myself from the agony that’s yet to come.

The tears follow suit, hot and heavy, a silent stream that won’t relent.

When Gracie emerges from her room a while later, her expression is one of deep concern. She takes one look at me, crumpled on the couch, and instantly knows. Words aren’t necessary; the sadness hanging in the room is testament enough.

“I’m calling LJ,” she announces, fishing her phone out of her pocket. “We need reinforcements. This calls for an emergency girls’ night.”

I want to protest, to argue that I’d rather be alone, but I can’t find the energy. Instead, I just nod, too spent to disagree.

A short while later, our living room is transformed into the perfect movie night scene courtesy of Gracie. The TV screen casts a dim light over the room, corny movies playing in the background, snacks laid out on the coffee table. It feels familiar, almost comforting, if not for the constant reminder of why we’re here.

LJ joins us shortly after, her usual bright smile replaced with a sympathetic frown. The three of us huddle together on the couch, a massive tub of Rocky Road ice cream placed strategically between us. It’s an unspoken agreement to eat our feelings away.

As I dig into the tub, the sweet, creamy flavor doing little to ease my turbulent thoughts, my mind still centers on Logan. My first boyfriend. The first man I’d ever been with, the first man I’d ever loved.

The connection between us had never been electric or instant. Instead, it was a slow, gentle simmer, gradually heating up until it was impossible to ignore.

We’d taken our time, explored each other at a leisurely pace. And I loved that about us. The first time we’d slept together, it was sweet, slow. More about the connection, the intimacy, than the act itself.

It felt right. More than just right, at the time.

“I just can’t believe it, you know?” My words shatter the silence, barely above a whisper yet thunderously loud in the quiet room.

Gracie’s arm snakes around me, pulling me into a side hug. “I know, hon,” she says softly. “It’s a real dick move.”

Yet, I can’t fully process her words, lost in a whirlpool of my own thoughts. Logan’s confession keeps replaying in my mind, his words reverberating through the silence. His dissatisfaction with our sex life, his confession that he wanted more. It gnaws at me, makes me question my own desires.

“Do you think I should’ve been ... more interested?” I ask, hating the vulnerability in my voice. “In that stuff?”

Gracie looks at me, confusion knitting her brows. “What do you mean?”

“In ... in sex, in general,” I clarify, my cheeks warming up. “Should I have been more adventurous? Done more to keep him interested?”

“Daisy,” LJ cuts in before Gracie can reply. Her voice is firm, the reassuring tone I’ve come to associate with her. “Don’t ever let someone else’s actions make you question your worth. You’re not responsible for his decisions. You shouldn’t have to change who you are or what you want because of what he did.”

I know she’s right, but the gnawing guilt is harder to ignore.What if things could’ve been different? If I’d been more adventurous, shown more interest, would he have stayed despite the distance? Would he have still had the thought, the inclination to stray?

Gracie seems to sense my thoughts. “Daisy,” she says, her voice softer this time. “Everyone has their own pace, their own desires. You shouldn’t feel pressured to change that for someone else.”

I give her a pitiful nod, forcing the lingering doubts to the back of my mind as another scene unfolds on the screen.

The rest of the night passes in a blur. The sad movies continue to roll, our tub of ice cream quickly depleting. But amidst the comfort of my friends and the forced distraction of the TV screen, the sense of loss is inescapable.

Logan was my first in many ways. My first boyfriend, my first love, and now, my first heartbreak. The pain is fresh, a deep wound that will take time to heal. But as I glance at my friends, their faces reflecting my own sorrow, I’m reminded that at least I’m not alone.

And for now, that’ll have to be enough.

* * *

The daysof the following week melt into one. I fall into a monotonous routine, a robotic state where I’m just going through the motions. I attend classes, mechanically jotting down notes, but my mind is a million miles away.

The moment I’m back in my apartment, I find myself crawling into bed, pulling the blanket over my head as if it can shield me from the crushing reality. My appetite has dwindled down to almost nothing. I’ve been living off sips of water and the occasional piece of bread that Gracie insists on me eating.

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