Chapter 67: Crumbling Foundations Jake POV

I pushed open the apartment door, my boots scuffing the mat, the faint smell of coffee hitting me as I dropped my keys into the bowl by the entrance. The place was quiet—too quiet. I kicked off my boots, tossing my gym bag onto the floor with a thud, and walked into the living room, expecting Sophia on the couch with her notebook.

"Soph?" I called, my voice bouncing off the walls, no answer coming back. I grabbed my phone from my pocket, scrolling to her name with a quick swipe, tapping the screen to call. It rang, once, twice, then voicemail—her voice chirping, "Hey, it’s Sophia, leave a message."

"Where you at?" I muttered, ending the call, pacing to the kitchen, my socks sliding on the hardwood. I opened the fridge, grabbing a beer, twisting the cap off with a hiss, the metal clinking as I tossed it onto the counter. I took a swig, the cold liquid hitting my throat, then set it down, pacing back to the living room.

I knocked on her bedroom door, my knuckles rapping sharply, then turned the knob—locked. "What the hell?" I said, kicking at the baseboard, the wood creaking under my foot. I pulled my phone out again, redialing, my thumb jabbing the screen harder this time.

"Sophia, pick up," I grumbled, pacing the hall, my free hand tugging at my hair as it rang. She answered on the fourth ring, her voice muffled, like she was somewhere noisy.

"Jake?" she said, a faint clatter in the background.

"Where are you, Soph?" I demanded, stopping to lean against the wall, my foot tapping against the loose floorboard.

"I’m... I’m at Ethan’s," she replied, her tone hesitant, a soft clink like she was stirring something.

I froze, my hand tightening around the phone, my voice cracking. "Ethan’s place? You’re staying there?"

"Just for tonight," she said, her voice softening. "He’s going through a lot—"

"So what?" I cut in, kicking the floorboard harder, the thud echoing. "You’re ditching me for him now?"

"It’s not like that, Jake," she snapped, her tone rising. "I’m trying to help him!"

"Help him?" I shouted, pacing again, my free hand balling into a fist. "What about us, Soph? I’m here, busting my ass to protect you!"

"I know," she said, quieter now, a rustle like she was moving. "I’ll be back tomorrow, okay?"

"Okay’s not good enough," I shot back, my voice breaking as I slammed my fist against the wall, the plaster denting slightly. "You’re picking him over me!"

"That’s not true!" she yelled, her breath hitching. "I’ll call you later—"

"Don’t bother," I said, hanging up, tossing the phone onto the couch with a bounce, my hands shaking. "Ethan," I muttered, kicking the couch leg, the frame creaking under the blow.

I grabbed the beer again, gulping it down, the bottle clinking as I set it on the counter, my fingers drumming against the edge. "She’s gone," I whispered, pacing to the window, pushing the blinds aside with a sharp tug, peering out at the street—a stray cat darted under a parked car.

I walked to the bedroom door again, rattling the knob, my foot tapping the floorboard harder. "Locked out—literally," I said, laughing bitterly, the sound hollow in my throat. I turned, pacing back to the kitchen, grabbing a glass from the cabinet, the door squeaking as I yanked it open.

"Guess I’m alone now," I muttered, filling the glass with water from the tap, my hand unsteady, splashing some onto the counter. I wiped it with a dish towel, tossing it onto the sink with a flick of my wrist, the fabric landing in a heap.

I grabbed my phone, scrolling through texts—nothing new from her. "She’s with him," I said, my voice low, dropping the phone back onto the couch, pacing to the TV, clicking it on with the remote, the news blaring about Argus Corp’s collapse.

"Ethan’s mess," I grumbled, flipping channels, my thumb jabbing the buttons, settling on static, the white noise buzzing in my ears. I tossed the remote onto the cushion, pacing back to the kitchen, my hands running through my hair, tugging at the strands.

"Jealousy’s eating me," I said aloud, kicking the cabinet door, the wood rattling. I grabbed a chair, dragging it to the table with a scrape, sitting hard, my elbows slamming onto the surface, my head dropping into my hands.

I stood again, pacing to the fridge, pulling out another beer, twisting the cap off with a hiss, sipping it fast, the cold stinging my lips. "She’s choosing him," I muttered, pacing back to the couch, flopping down, the springs creaking under me.

My phone buzzed—Melissa texting, You okay? I swiped it away, tossing the phone onto the cushion, grabbing the beer bottle again, my fingers wrapping tight around the neck. "Not okay," I said, sipping again, the bitter taste matching the ache in my chest.

I paced to the bedroom door once more, rattling the knob, my foot kicking the floorboard loose, the wood popping up slightly. "Locked out of everything," I said, my voice cracking, pacing back to the kitchen, my hands shaking as I set the beer down.

I opened the cabinet, grabbing a bottle of whiskey, twisting the cap off with a crack, the sharp scent hitting my nose. "Screw it," I muttered, pouring a shot into a glass, the liquid splashing slightly, then grabbing a knife from the block, twirling it between my fingers, staring at the blade as my resolve wavered.