When Love Hurts Read Online Free

Angela is coming over around six when I get off, so be in your bedroom for the night by then. Thanks. PS. Your eggs are in the fridge.”
    I walk over to the stove and pull out the plate he left for me. It has two link sausages and two strips of bacon. I open the fridge to get the eggs and notice my favorite cheese and bacon omelet sitting on a paper plate.
    After stuffing myself silly, I get up and wash the dishes. Jaylen doesn’t have a lot of dirty dishes—just a few plates and the pan he used for the eggs. I wash them quickly, then wipe the table off with a rag I find in one of his dish drawers.
    I wash off the stove and clean the inside of the oven. It makes me feel productive and needed. I set out to clean the refrigerator, empting out its contents before scrubbing the shelves inside with soap and water. I restock the fridge in a nice order for Jaylen. I put the meat products on the bottom, butter and cheese at the top, and miscellaneous foods like leftovers in the middle.  
    I look around the kitchen for anything I had missed, and when I don’t see anything I stroll to the living room. I start straightening up in there before I bore myself with just sitting on the couch. I throw away some notable trash before hunting down the vacuum. I walk down the hallway and open the linen closet. All the shelves are full of towels and cleaning supplies but no vacuum. I search the laundry room and find the vacuum leaning against the wall. The laundry room is a nice touch for this apartment and holds a washer and dryer, a bunch of dirty clothes, and the vacuum.  
    I am about to walk out, when I see a pile of female clothes in the corner of the floor.  
    I leave the room but move at a slower pace. My mood has changed, and even though I hate to admit it, I know it’s true. I’m jealous. I’m jealous of the love Jaylen and Angela have. Angela and I aren’t the best of friends—acquaintances at most, really—but I know she’s good for Jaylen. The few times I interacted with her she acted irritated with me. She knows Jaylen and I practically grew up together, but I don’t think she really trusts him alone with me, but I’ve never given her a reason not to.
    I start vacuuming the living room and move on to the hallways and my guest room. I’m about to shut the vacuum off and roll up the cord I have plugged in, when I think about cleaning Jaylen’s room. I shrug and open his door. The room is spacious and uncluttered. The floors are free of clothes, and the bed is already made up. The dresser is the only thing unorganized with watches, money, and a few other miscellaneous items scattered about.
    Once I finish the floor, I shut the vacuum off. I turn to leave, when a picture on his dresser stops me. It’s a picture of his parents when they were still together, and it makes me smile. His parents divorced around the time Jaylen turned thirteen.  
    Neither Jaylen nor Malcolm took the divorce too hard. They still saw their father after the divorce, but not too much after they moved here to Chicago. The two of them stayed more in contact with their mom, Sheri, who was like a mother to me. I smile, looking into Sheri’s deep-brown eyes in the photo. That is really the only trait passed down to her children. I look to the man beside her, and he is the forty-five-year-old version of his sons. The males apparently have the dominant genes, and the man is definitely Jaylen’s father.
    I look around the dresser and see another picture in its frame of Jaylen when he was around sixteen. He’s in his suit and standing next to his prom date, a girl from our graduating class named Kelly. They were together at the time, but he didn’t love her, and they only lasted about a month or so after the prom. Jaylen had to have been the most attractive and popular person in our senior class. I was a junior, and Malcolm had already graduated and was trying out college. Even though Jaylen gave me a ride home every day from school, I was never