Chapter 12 The Wrappers Don’t Lie
Millie’s hands shook as she pulled Cody’s phone from its charger under Sabrina’s bed. Her heart thudded so hard it hurt. She pressed the power button. The screen lit up with that stupid motorcycle wallpaper from their trip two months ago. Two bars of battery.
“What the hell, Cody,” she muttered.
Then it hit her—the condom wrappers on the floor, Sabrina’s livestream bragging about her “cute bartender.” It wasn’t a coincidence. Her chest burned.
She grabbed the wrappers, shoved Cody’s phone into her bag, and walked out.
Sabrina’s voice followed, high and confused. “Hey, wait, are you done? You didn’t even finish—”
Millie didn’t stop. She didn’t look back. Her body just moved, fueled by anger and disbelief. Screw Sabrina. She needed to deal with this.
Outside, she fumbled for her phone and called Clara, her fingers clumsy from adrenaline.
“Mills?” Clara answered on the first ring, voice tight with worry. “What happened? Sabrina’s still alive, crying about some cleaning lady who ditched her. The comments are tearing you apart. Why’d you leave? Was she awful or something?”
Millie swallowed, forcing her voice steady. “Cody cheated on me with Sabrina.” She crossed the street, dodging a cyclist.
“What the fuck?” Clara almost shouted it.
“Yeah. You heard Sabrina’s stream, right? Bragging about hooking up with a bartender last night? Cody didn’t come home. He said he left his phone at the bar. I just found it in her apartment—with condom wrappers.”
“Oh, shit,” Clara said quietly. “That’s messed up.”
“Small world, huh?” Millie said, shaking her head as she pushed through the crowd. The sarcasm barely covered her voice cracking.
“I’m so sorry,” Clara said. “You don’t deserve that. I’ve been saying it—he’s a loser. You need to dump him.”
Millie took a shaky breath. “I’m heading home. I’ll call you later.”
“Promise?” Clara asked.
“Yeah.” Millie ended the call and shoved her phone into her pocket.
The walk home blurred. The sidewalks, the traffic, the noise—all background. Her chest burned with anger. Cody’s phone. The wrappers. Sabrina’s smug laugh. That was all she could think about.
She slammed open the apartment door. The cheap wood hit the wall hard.
Cody was sprawled across the bed, snoring, with one arm over his face. Seeing him there made her want to throw something. He didn’t even flinch.
“Cody!” she yelled.
He jerked awake, blinking. “Millie? What’s going on? What time is it?” His voice was thick with sleep, like she’d just ruined his nap.
She didn’t answer. She pulled his phone and the condom wrappers from her bag and threw them at him. They hit his chest, the wrappers sliding onto the blanket.
Her eyes burned, but she gritted her teeth.
“You lying piece of shit,” she said, her voice breaking on the words.
Cody’s face drained of color. He grabbed for the phone, then the wrappers, eyes darting. “Millie, wait, I can—”
“I don’t want to hear it,” she cut in. Her heart hammered in her chest.
He stood and started pacing the tiny room. “Millie, you have to hear me out. I was trashed, okay? I didn’t even know what I was doing. I barely know her.”
Millie’s stomach twisted. “Sabrina,” she said. “Her name’s Sabrina. Don’t act like she’s some random. She’s an influencer.” The word came out sharp. She could see it—them together, his hands on her, that smug laugh.
“Fuck, Millie, I swear I didn’t know it was her. I was so drunk, I thought she was you.”
Millie let out a dry laugh. “So I should be flattered? You were imagining me while you were with her? That’s your defense?”
“Babe, please, you gotta—”
“Don’t ‘babe’ me!” Her voice cracked and filled the room. “You think I’m stupid enough to buy that? You’re disgusting.” She stepped closer, fists tight. “You left your phone at her place, Cody. You didn’t even bother to hide it. What, too busy bragging to your bar buddies about screwing some Instagram princess?”
He froze, mouth opening and closing. Nothing came out.
“It wasn’t like that,” he said finally, rubbing his neck. “I didn’t mean for it to happen.”
“Yeah, well, it did,” she said. “And I’m done cleaning up your messes.”
Cody froze, finally seeming to realize he was digging his own grave. “Okay, I know it looks bad, but it didn’t mean shit. I swear, Millie, it was nothing.”
“Nothing?” Millie stepped closer, her hands shaking. Every fight they’d ever had piled up in her mind—every time she’d let his crap slide. “You’ve always been like this, Cody. I’m seriously done.”
“Millie, come on…I forgot all about that one-night stand you had with some random penthouse guy. You could let this slide, too.” Cody’s voice softened, as if that would make the words any less disgusting.
Millie stared at him, stunned. He actually thought that would help his case.
“That was last year, Cody,” she snapped. “Way before I even met you, you unbelievable piece of shit.” Her voice shook, fury rising like bile. “I knew you’d throw that in my face someday—I just didn’t think you’d use it to justify cheating on me.”
"Well, it doesn't change the fact that you slept with a guy you just met. He could be in a relationship, you know."
She shook her head, Clara’s voice echoing in her mind, that gut-honest warning she’d brushed off.
“Oh my god. Clara was right,” Millie said, voice cold. “You’re fucking pathetic.”
She grabbed the old suitcase from the corner, the one with the busted zipper she’d been meaning to replace.
“What, you’re leaving?” Cody’s tone shifted, sharper now. “Where are you even going to go, Millie? Your mom’s? She already kicked you out, remember?”
The jab hit hard, but not the way he wanted.
Millie laughed, a dry, humorless sound. “God, Cody, that’s all you really care about? Who’s going to split the rent if I’m gone?”
Cody’s face flushed red, and Millie knew she’d hit the truth. He hadn’t once said he was sorry for her, for them—just panicked about his own damn life. She started tossing clothes into the suitcase—jeans, a couple of shirts, whatever she could grab. Her hands shook, but she didn’t stop. She was done.