Nate

I knew right away that this was a bad idea.
She walked too close to me, and I saw her gaze change. Jealousy. Anger. Patience at zero.
That girl smiled at me on purpose.
Too provocative.
It was as if she was checking to see if I would break.
“You’re cute,” she says, almost touching me.
I take a step back.
But she’s no longer looking at me, but at her.
“Hey, stop,” I say, but it’s too late.
They collide.
A scream. A sudden movement.
I see her push first - and then everything turns into chaos.
"Stop!" I yell, bursting between them, tearing them apart with my hands. "ENOUGH!"
They freeze.
Her hands are shaking.
And at that moment I am overcome with anger – not at her. At myself.
Because I should have stopped it earlier.
The girl leaves, throwing a nasty smile at last.
I'm staying with her. With the one for whom I don't need anyone else at all.
I look her in the eyes and say honestly, without trying to be calm:
— “What pisses me off isn’t that she was hitting on me… what pisses me off is the thought that anyone could even think that you’re not mine.”
I pull her closer to me, tighter than usual.
Because jealousy is fear.
And I'm afraid of only one thing.
Lose her.