raw, honest answers

Tammy’s smirk faded into something quieter, her posture unwinding until she leaned back against the chair, hands draped lazily on the rests. Her nails clicked once against the leather, deliberate, like punctuation before she spoke.

“Look, Tim,” she said, her voice still velvet but threaded with something harder, something that sounded more like the boy you used to sit next to in math. “Don’t think I don’t know what this looks like to you. You keep staring at me like I’m some alien, like you’re waiting for Randall to peel off this skin and come stumbling out.”

You swallowed, but didn’t answer. She leaned forward again, elbows on her thighs, and her tone went steadier, calmer.

“But here’s the truth. Randall’s life? It sucked. You know it did. Mom’s boyfriend? A monster. Home was hell. School was… barely holding on. I wasn’t some genius on track for college. What was I gonna do, Tim? Scrub floors? Sling burgers until I dropped dead? That was the road, man. And maybe if I was lucky, I’d get a one-bedroom apartment in some dump in Carson and a secondhand console to rot my brain on.”

Her eyes locked on yours, and though her lashes were thick and her tan skin glowing under makeup, there was an old flicker there, the same one that used to meet your gaze from across the couch during late-night gaming marathons. “You know what my life boiled down to? You. Hanging with you. Those nights, those laughs. That was the only time I wasn’t thinking about how much everything else sucked.”

You felt your chest tighten.

“But now?” Tammy swept a hand down her body, slow, deliberate, the jewelry and skin catching the light. “Now I’ve got this. A brand new life. Money. Success. Glamour. Whatever I want. I don’t have to beg, I don’t have to suffer, I don’t have to scrape.” She leaned back, crossing one leg over the other, a polished, easy gesture that still somehow carried Randall’s weight behind it. “I can walk into a club and every head turns. I can pick up the phone and someone answers. I’ve got power.”

Her smile curved faintly, not cocky—satisfied. “Losing ‘Randall’? That’s nothing. That’s a small price to pay for finally getting out of the dirt. Randall was just a shell, Tim. And this shell?” she gestured around her at the immaculate house, her perfect body, her curated life, “This one wins.”

You wanted to say something, but your throat locked.

Then her voice softened again, that calm cutting straight through you. “And you know the one thing this new life didn’t have?” She paused, letting the silence bite. “You.”

Your eyes snapped up, but she was already watching you, gaze unwavering.

“You were the only good thing before. You were my guy, my anchor. So when all this happened, when I realized I could build something bigger? There was never any question. I wasn’t gonna leave you behind. No way. You were always part of the plan, Tim. And now…” she spread her hands, a flourish that was more **** than grand. “…you’re here. In it. With me.”

She said it with such simple finality it landed heavy as stone, leaving you trapped between disbelief, guilt, and a strange ache you couldn’t name.