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MidReal Story
The Truth About My Girl
Scenario:When I first started dating Emmy, I thought she was perfect. Sweet, caring, and easy to be around. But over time, her mask slipped.
A year into our relationship, and she’s turned into someone I barely recognize. Arrogant, critical, and always reminding me how her ex did everything better. Every little thing I do feels like a mistake.
Tonight is no different. I’m late picking her up after her girls’ night, thanks to the traffic. The moment I see her, she’s already scowling.
“Seriously? My ex would’ve been here early—and he wouldn’t be driving a crap car like this!”
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Jamie Bennett
boyfriend, relationships with Emmy and friends, average build, brown hair, conflicted and patient
Emmy Knight
girlfriend, relationship with Jamie and friends, slender with blonde hair, initially sweet but now critical
Natalia Hayes
mutual friend of Jamie and Emmy, supportive of Jamie
When Emmy and I first started dating, I thought she was perfect.
Sweet, caring, hot, and damn fun to be around.
It took a while for me to realize that all of that was just an act, a mask that she wore at the beginning of our relationship to hook me.
Now, a year into our relationship, she’s turned into someone I barely recognize.
She’s arrogant, critical, and she never misses an opportunity to remind me how her ex did everything better than me.
He was richer, smarter, more muscular, and more successful, and according to her, he never made mistakes.
I’m beginning to think that the guy doesn’t exist.
If she wasn’t so hot and incredible in bed, I would’ve broken up with her a long time ago.
Tonight was no different.
I’m late picking her up after her girls’ night out, thanks to the fact that I had to work late and then got stuck in traffic.
The moment I see her, she’s already scowling.
"Seriously? My ex would’ve been here early—and he wouldn’t be driving a crap car like this!"
I don’t know why it hits me differently tonight, but instead of letting it slide, I pull into a quiet spot outside her apartment complex and turn off the engine.
"We need to talk about your ex."
My voice is steadier than I expected.
She rolls her eyes and reaches for the door handle, but I keep talking.
"Every time we’re together, you bring him up. Is he even real?"
Her face turns red.
She opens her mouth to argue, but for once, I don’t let her cut me off.
She shifts in her seat, crossing her arms over her chest and glaring at me.
The streetlight above us casts harsh shadows over her face, accentuating the tension in her jaw.
For a long moment, she doesn’t answer.
When she does, her voice is softer than I expected.
"You don't understand," she mutters, looking anywhere but at me.
Her fingers fidget with the phone case in her lap.
I’ve seen that nervous habit before.
But this time, I finally see it for what it is—a crack in the facade.
I reach across the center console and take her hand.
Her fingers are cold against my palm.
She tries to pull away, but I hold on tight.
"What don’t I understand?" she asks.
The streetlight casts a shadow over her eyes, making them impossible to read.
"Your ex," I say simply.
She stares straight ahead through the windshield.
The only sign that she’s even heard me is her uneven breathing and the tightening of her grip on the phone case in her lap.
"You want the truth?" she whispers.
"Fine."
She turns toward me, tears welling up in her eyes.
"He never existed," she admits, her voice barely audible.
I blink, trying to process her words.
"Then why lie about him all this time?" I ask, my voice a mix of confusion and frustration.
She doesn’t answer.
Instead, she just sits there, tears streaming down her cheeks.
I’ve never seen her like this before.
For a moment, I sit in stunned silence, unsure of how to react.
But then something shifts inside me.
Seeing her like this—vulnerable and broken down—makes me realize how much I’ve let her walk all over me these past few months.
The lies, the arrogance, the constant belittling… it’s all been building up inside me like a ticking time bomb.
And now that it’s finally exploded, I can’t just ignore it.
I need to know why she lied about her ex in the first place.
I reach across the center console and gently grab her wrist, stopping her from opening the car door again.
"Wait," I say softly.
She looks at me through mascara-streaked eyes, but she doesn’t pull away.
I reach over and wipe a tear away with my thumb, and her breath catches as I do. Her eyes lock onto mine, and for the first time in a long time, I see something there other than anger or disdain.
It’s a glimmer of something raw and honest—a hint of vulnerability beneath the surface-level bitchiness she usually shows me.
I lean in closer, my heart pounding in my chest.
She doesn’t move away.
Instead, she moves toward me, her lips brushing against mine in a soft kiss.
It’s not like our usual kisses—hard and aggressive and full of lust.
This kiss is different—raw and honest and real.
I lean back in my seat, still reeling from Emmy’s confession and the kiss that followed.
The dashboard clock reads 11:47 PM, but I don’t know how long we’ve been sitting here in silence.
Emmy’s still wiping at her face with trembling fingers, and I’m not sure what to say or do.
When I reach for her hand again, she doesn’t pull away.
Her palm is clammy against mine, but she squeezes back hesitantly.
The dashboard clock blinks 11:47 PM, and I search for the right words to say.
Emmy’s mascara has left dark streaks down her cheeks, and her usual sharp confidence is completely gone.
She looks smaller somehow, hunched in the passenger seat. I open my mouth to suggest starting fresh—maybe we can forget about everything that’s happened these past few months and try to move forward—but before I can get the words out, she cuts me off with another quiet admission.
"I’ve always been insecure," she says softly.
"I’ve always felt like I’m not good enough."
I turn toward her, but she’s still staring out the window at the dark street outside.
"I’ve never told anyone that before," she adds quietly.
"Why me?" I ask, my voice barely above a whisper.
She finally looks at me, her eyes searching mine for something I can't quite grasp.
"Because you see through the lies," she replies, a faint smile tugging at her lips.
