Loving The Girl Who Ruined Us

Margot fell in love with my roommate at first sight.

She snapped a candid photo of him and dropped it into our universitys most notorious, invite-only group chat for trust-fund kids.

[Does anyone know who this guy is? Ten grand to whoever gets me his number.]

Someone replied almost instantly. [I have it.]

But they made a typo. They sent her my number instead.

Margot and I dated exclusively online for the entirety of winter break.

It wasn't until the spring semester started, when we finally met face-to-face, that she realized the massive mistake.

She stared at me, thought about it for a long, agonizing minute, and then offered a compromise.

"We break up. You help me get Wyatt. And when its done, Ill give you a blank check. Write whatever number you want on it. Do we have a deal?"

1.

Margots attitude was remarkably sincere.

We went to the same university, but this was the first time she was truly looking at me.

I, on the other hand, had stolen hundreds of glances at her over the years. In my mind, she was always this effortlessly aloof creature, as if nothing in the world was quite worthy of her attention.

But now, for Wyatt, she was being incredibly generous.

She literally slid a blank check across the table.

"Don't worry," she told me, her voice smooth. "The second I get back, Im going to wring Delaney's neck for this."

I knew who Delaney was. A notorious rich kid with a reputation for chaos. She was the one who had accidentally sent Margot my number.

I clenched my hands under the table, forcing my breathing to steady.

"It's fine," I said. "I'll do it."

There wasnt much point in hesitating.

Yes, I liked Margot. I liked her a lot.

But at the same time, I was desperately broke.

I just hadnt expected my first foray into love to end in such a pathetic, transactional disaster.

A gust of freezing wind tore past us, and I instinctively pulled my scarf tighter around my neck. Margot looked at me sideways, her eyes as dark as ink.

She sighed.

"I'm sorry."

It suddenly hit me that the day she first added me, it had been snowing just like this.

I had just gotten back home from the bus station, standing in the freezing snow, reading her friend request over and over again. We had gone to the same high school. I had memorized her profile picture and screen name years ago.

And now, we were college juniors. Six whole years had passed.

My hands had literally shaken when I hit accept.

Her first message to me had been: [Hey, I'm Margot. I saw you this afternoon, thought we should get to know each other.]

That fleeting moment was the happiest of my entire life.

Only now did I realize that from the very beginning, the whole thing had been nothing but a beautiful, cruel illusion.

2.

After getting Wyatts permission, I passed his number to Margot.

Wyatt wasnt drop-dead gorgeous, but he had this golden-retriever, sun-kissed energy that naturally drew people in. He had plenty of girls chasing him.

But obviously, none of them could compete with Margot.

He sat on his bed, phone in hand, typing out a message to her before looking up at me, thoroughly confused. "How do you even know Margot?"

I fell silent for a second. I swallowed the truth.

"Randomly got added. We never really talked."

Wyatt looked relieved.

"Man, I'm so nervous. I don't even know how to talk to a girl like her. Do you really think she's into me?"

I nodded. "Yeah."

I grabbed my textbooks and walked out of the dorm.

Just as I reached the bottom of the library steps, my phone buzzed. It was Margot.

[I want to take him to dinner tomorrow. Does he have any allergies? What kind of food does he like?]

I took a deep, heavy breath.

I rested my thumb on the screen and scrolled up. Just a few weeks ago, she had been calling me by my childhood nickname.

For two months, we had texted from the second we woke up until we fell asleep. She knew every tiny detail about what I liked. Before we were supposed to meet, knowing I had a sweet tooth, she had actually spent days learning how to bake a complicated French pastry from scratch.

Wyatt's tastes were the exact opposite of mine.

[He hates sweets. He likes it spicy,] I typed back.

The three typing dots appeared, vanished, and appeared again. A long silence stretched over the digital space before she finally replied.

[Okay.]

Staring at that single word, I locked my screen.

Sometimes, the sheer whiplash of life makes you want to laugh out loud. Just days ago, she was the one coaxing me to sleep, texting me things that made the blood rush to my face.

[I'm not a good girl, you know,] she had teased.[You'll find out when we meet.]

But when we finally met, the only thing she left me with was an apology.

3.

Margot didn't text me often after that.

Only occasionally, to ask for intel on Wyatts preferences. I played my part dutifully. If I knew the answer, I gave it to her straight.

Then came the day I walked back into the dorm to find Wyatt shivering under his blankets, looking awful. I pressed a hand to his forehead.

He was burning up.

Right on cue, Margot's name flashed on my phone.

[Is Wyatt in the room? Ive been calling him but hes not picking up.]

I quickly explained that Wyatt was running a high fever. Her reply was instant.

[Help him downstairs. Im pulling the car around.]

I texted back a quick ]Okay.]

The problem was, I had badly sprained my ankle a week prior. Hauling Wyatts dead weight down three flights of stairs was agonizing.

By the time we made it to the lobby doors and I saw Margot, my grip slipped for just a second. Wyatt bumped into the doorframe and nearly crumpled to the ground.

Seeing this, Margot sprinted out of her car.

Her brow was furrowed, her voice icy.

"Jonah."

"You almost let him fall."

Swallowing the sharp, shooting pain in my ankle, I quickly muttered, "I didn't mean to."

Margot didn't even look at me. She just wrapped her arm around Wyatt and guided him into the passenger seat.

I stood there on the pavement for a long time, watching her taillights disappear.

So this is what it feels like. Watching the person you love meticulously care for someone else.

4.

For a long time after that, Margot vanished from my inbox.

Once Wyatt got back from the hospital, they started FaceTiming every single night.

Our other two roommates would occasionally pop into the frame, cracking jokes or saying hi to her.

Except me.

Every time she called, I retreated to the furthest corner of the room, completely silent.

She used to call me like that. Back then, I really believed we were the start of a great story.

Then, one evening, Wyatt was in the shower. He had left his phone on his desk.

It rang, loudly and persistently, for a solid minute.

"Hey man, can you answer that for me?" Wyatt yelled over the water.

I looked at the screen. Margots name was glowing brightly. She had already called three times. She was probably panicking, worried he had spiked a fever again.

I hesitated, then tapped the green button.

Margot's voice came through the speaker, impossibly soft.

"Wyatt?"

A bitter ache bloomed in my chest. I pressed my lips together. "He's in the shower."

A beat of silence. Then, Margot spoke, her tone shifting into something definitive.

"It's you."

Of course she recognized my voice.

"Yeah," I replied.

The line went quiet. I had delivered the message. I thought about it, and started to pull the phone away to hang up.

Suddenly, her voice came back. "I didn't mean to snap at you the other day."

I gripped the phone.

I didn't know what to say. It took me a long time to force out two hollow words.

"It's fine."

She seemed caught off guard that after such a long pause, that was all I had to offer. She let out a soft, breathy laugh. "Right."

That night, for the first time in weeks, Margot texted my actual phone.

It felt like a fragile olive branch.

[Thanks for answering today.]

Margot's devotion to Wyatt was bordering on obsessive. She showered him with expensive gifts. A PS5, a vintage Rolex, limited-edition sneakers. So much stuff he could barely fit it in his closet.

But despite it all, Wyatt seemed frustrated.

"She treats me amazing. But I don't get it. It's been over a month, and she still hasn't made it official. Does she want me to make the first move?"

One of the roommates leaned over, curious. "Have you guys kissed? Hooked up?"

Wyatt shook his head. "No." He paused, looking almost embarrassed. "Honestly, we haven't even held hands yet."

I sat on the sidelines, listening in absolute silence.

"I heard Margot has never dated anyone," another roommate chimed in. "Shes practically royalty on campus. Before you, she never looked twice at a guy. You gotta step it up, man. Lock it down."

But I remembered winter break. We had been texting for barely two weeks before she confessed her feelings to me. My guess? She had gotten burned by rushing in with me, and now she wanted to take it agonizingly slow.

Either way, it didn't matter. They were bound to make it official soon.

I just didn't expect to run into Margot the very next night.

5.

She was playing volleyball on the campus courts with some friends.

I was just passing by when a stray ball slammed hard into the side of my head.

The girl who hit it came jogging over, breathless. She took one look at the forming bruise on my temple and grabbed my arm. "Shit, sorry. Come on, I'm taking you to the clinic."

I looked up. The stadium lights were blinding.

The girl finally got a good look at my face and froze.

Right at that moment, I saw Margot walking up from behind her. Her face was dangerously dark.

"Delaney," Margot warned, her voice low.

It suddenly clicked.

This was Delaney. The girl who had accidentally handed Margot my phone number.

Margot's eyes dropped to where Delaneys hand was wrapped around my arm. There was no warmth in her expression. "You're just taking him to the clinic. Do you really need to be grabbing him like that?"

Delaney immediately dropped my arm like it burned her.

In the end, they both escorted me to the campus hospital.

Thankfully, it was just a mild concussion. Throughout the whole ordeal, Delaney wouldn't stop hovering, asking me rapid-fire questions.

[Does it hurt? Do you need water? Are you dizzy?]

Margot just stood by the wall, arms crossed, wrapped in a suffocating silence.

It wasn't until we were leaving the clinic that Delaney casually pulled out her phone. "Hey, let me get your number? Just in case you feel weird later, I can cover your medical bills."

I blinked. Before I could even open my mouth, Margot let out a cold, sharp laugh.

"That's Jonah. The guy you tricked me into dating for a month. You already have his number."

Delaney cursed under her breath. "Holy shit, it is you. I completely forgot when I even added you."

"Your last name is the same as Wyatt's, right? I totally got you two mixed up in my contacts."

I tightened my jaw. "A few weeks ago, I was supposed to be a volunteer for a campus event you were organizing. You reached out to me online."

The event had been canceled, so we had never actually crossed paths.

Delaneys eyes lit up with sudden realization, a bright smile breaking across her face.

"Right! Wow, small world. I guess we were destined to run into each other."

6.

That night, not long after I got back to my dorm, I got a text from Delaney.

[Feeling better?]

[Yeah,] I typed back.

The little typing bubble popped up on her end. It stayed there for a solid five minutes.

Finally, the message came through.

[Margot almost killed me over that mix-up. I wanted to text you and apologize back then, but she wouldnt let me. Said the damage was done and I shouldnt poke the bear.]

[But since we actually met today, I just wanted to say Im really sorry.]

I thought about it for a second, then replied.

[Its fine. Don't worry about it.]

I set my phone down and went to take a shower.

When I came back out, there was an absurdly elegant pastry box sitting on my desk. The packaging alone screamed luxury.

Wyatt was lounging on his bed. "Margot bought those. I hate sweets, so I just split them between you guys. Smells pretty good, though."

I glanced over. My other two roommates were happily digging into their boxes.

Maybe it was just the steam from the shower, but my throat felt incredibly dry. My voice came out raspy.

"I'm cutting carbs. I'll pass."

7.

Wyatt and Margot's relationship seemed to be sailing smoothly.

But secrets don't stay buried forever. It didn't take long for him to find out about the whole 'wrong number' fiasco.

It happened at an off-campus party. Someone had too much to drink and let it slip to Wyatt.

"Hey man, heard you're rooming with the fake boyfriend. What's he look like? Bet hes not half as good-looking as you."

"Who knows, though. Delaney hasn't shut up about him all week..."

Wyatt came back to the dorm completely furious. In front of all our roommates, he grabbed me by the collar and punched me square in the jaw.

He spat out a warning, telling me to stay the hell away from Margot.

I tasted copper and was just about to push back when my phone buzzed in my pocket. A text from Margot.

[Wyatt knows. He has a temper. Just let him vent, please. Consider it repaying the favor you owe me.]

During winter break, when we were on a late-night call, my grandmother had taken a bad fall and hit her head. I was entirely alone, terrified, and broke.

Margot had instantly stepped in. She made the calls, got my grandmother transferred to a top-tier hospital, and even secured an elite neurologist.

She had been so apologetic back then.["I'm stuck in New York, I can't leave. Otherwise, Id be right there with you."]

She had no idea that just the simple act of her caring so much was enough for me.

And now, she was calling in the debt.

I stood there in the dorm, bleeding, and texted back: ]Okay.]

Then, I looked at Wyatt and apologized.

After lights out, the other two guys were still whispering, trying to stroke Wyatts ego.

"Always the quiet ones, right? Doing sneaky shit behind your back."

"Seriously, who tries to move in on another guy's girl?"

Wyatt laughed, the tension finally leaving his voice. "She's not even officially my girl yet."

I lay in the dark, my face throbbing. It was definitely going to bruise by morning.

But the physical pain was nothing compared to the sickening ache left by Margot's text.

8.

When it rains, it pours.

The next day, during my shift at an upscale restaurant, I was still so distracted by the previous night that I completely zoned out. A customer bumped into me, and I ended up wearing a tray of iced cola.

Combined with the ugly purple bruise blooming on my jaw, I looked utterly pathetic.

The customer was livid, screaming about two tiny drops of soda on his designer shirt and demanding I pay for the dry cleaning.

I was exhausted. Bone-tired.

I looked up, and there, standing near the host stand, were Margot and Wyatt.

They stood shoulder to shoulder. Looking at them, youd think they were cut out of a magazine. The perfect, wealthy couple.

When Wyatt noticed me, he let out a scoff of disgust and tried to pull Margot toward their private booth.

Margot had Wyatts trench coat draped over her arm. She stopped and looked in my direction.

Her eyes skipped over my soaked uniform, landing squarely on the bruise on my face.

Her lips parted slightly. She looked like she wanted to say something.

But she didn't. She slowly pulled her gaze away, turned, and followed Wyatt into the dining room.

I watched her walk away, fighting back the humiliating sting of tears. I swallowed my pride, apologized profusely to the angry customer, and cleaned up the mess.

At the end of my shift, the manager pulled me aside.

He told me someone from the private booths had formally complained about me. He had no choice but to let me go.

"It was a guy about your age," the manager sighed. "What the hell did you do to piss him off?"

I kept my head down. I didn't answer.

That night, I missed the last bus to campus. I stood alone in the biting cold wind, scrolling aimlessly on my phone, and saw Wyatt's latest Instagram post.

A photo of him and Margot at the beach. He was smiling; she was looking slightly away from the camera. They looked flawless together.

The caption was simple: ]Finally official.]

I stared at the screen until the edges of the photo blurred.

Right then, a banner notification slid down from the top of my screen. A text from Margot.

Her tone was utterly clinical.

[I'll have Keeley drop off the check for you in a few days.]

I wanted to scream. I wanted to ask her: ]When Wyatt complained to the manager and got me fired, were you sitting right next to him?]

Seeing me so broken and pathetic, was she relieved she dodged a bullet? Or, for the sake of those two months we spent talking every night, did she feel even a fraction of guilt?

In the end, I typed a single word.

[Okay.]

9.

Wyatt made sure the whole world knew they were dating.

His social media became a shrine to Margot. But none of that was my business anymore.

To replace the restaurant job, I picked up two new part-time gigs. I was constantly running, leaving before dawn and crashing after midnight.

One afternoon, I was standing on a busy street corner handing out flyers when Delaney found me.

She had just gotten back from an out-of-state academic competition. She stood before me, looking travel-worn but wired with energy.

She reached into her bag and handed me a folded check.

"Margot told me to give this to you."

I hesitated. "Didn't she say someone named Keeley was going to bring it?"

Delaney coughed, looking a little guilty.

"I heard about it and intercepted it. Margot doesn't know, so... don't tell her, alright?"

I pressed my lips together. "I won't."

Margot and I were never going to speak again anyway.

Delaney let out a visible breath of relief. Then, without asking, she grabbed half the stack of flyers from my hands.

"I'll help."

When we finally finished, we walked back to campus together.

Under the glow of a streetlamp, I turned to say goodnight. She stared at me, her eyes catching the light, and asked a question that came entirely out of left field.

"I never asked you. Aside from that whole fake-dating disaster with Margot... have you ever actually had a girlfriend?"

My heart skipped a beat. I opened my mouth to answer.