The Girl in the Hoodie is Mine

Jason POV:

I stood in the empty living room, my mind spiraling as Ella’s words replayed on a loop.

"Don’t think for a second that I’ve forgotten about the bet."

How the hell had she found out? My stomach churned, and a heavy weight pressed on my chest. Someone had told her. But who? It didn’t add up. The only people who knew were Max, Dylan, and me. None of us would sabotage this—not intentionally. And yet, the way she looked at us during the reception, like we were nothing but filth, made it clear that she was done with all of us.

I rubbed my face, trying to think. Whoever had told her had done some serious damage. Ella wasn’t just angry—she was disgusted. And for the first time in a long while, I was terrified. This wasn’t something I could fix with an apology or charm. She was out for blood.

The sound of a door closing upstairs pulled me out of my thoughts. I stared at the staircase, debating whether to go up and confront her. But what would I even say? "Hey, Ella, I know you’re furious and think I’m the scum of the earth, but can we talk about this?" Yeah, right.

Still, I couldn’t just leave things like this. I had to try.

With a deep breath, I climbed the stairs and found myself standing outside our bedroom door. My hand hovered over the doorknob, but I hesitated. She had every right to be furious. The bet was a low point for all of us, a stupid, immature mistake we made before we really knew her. But that was ancient history, and it didn’t reflect how I felt about her now. I needed her to see that.

I knocked softly. "Ella?"

No response.

I knocked again, more firmly this time. "Ella, please. I just want to talk."

"Go away, Jason," came her curt reply.

"Ella, come on," I said, my voice tinged with desperation. "I know you’re upset, and I get it. But if you’d just let me explain—"

The door swung open, and she stood there, her expression icy. "Explain what, Jason? That I was just a game to you? That you and your friends sat around laughing about who could win me? You think there’s anything you can say to make that better?"

I swallowed hard. "It wasn’t like that. Okay, maybe it started that way, but—"

She scoffed, cutting me off. "Maybe it started that way? Wow, Jason, way to inspire confidence."

"Ella, listen to me!" I said, my voice rising. "Yes, it was stupid and wrong, and I hate that it happened. But it’s not what you think anymore. I care about you. I’ve cared about you for a long time. The bet—it doesn’t mean anything now."

Her eyes narrowed. "It means everything. Because it shows exactly what you thought of me, Jason. A prize. A game. Something to win." She shook her head, her voice trembling with anger. "And you think I’ll just forget about it because you say you care? Do you have any idea how humiliating it is to know that every interaction we had was part of some stupid bet?"

"Ella, please," I said, stepping closer, but she held up a hand to stop me.

"Don’t," she said, her voice cold. "I’m not interested in your excuses or your attempts to justify it. The only reason I’m here is because of my father. This marriage isn’t about you, Jason. It’s about me taking control of my life, and that’s exactly what I’m going to do."

I stared at her, stunned into silence. Her words were like daggers, each one cutting deeper than the last.

She stepped back into the room and slammed the door in my face.

For a moment, I just stood there, staring at the closed door. My chest felt tight, my mind racing with everything I wanted to say but couldn’t. She was right to be angry, and I didn’t blame her for hating me right now. But I couldn’t let this be the end. I had to find a way to prove to her that I wasn’t the same guy who made that stupid bet. I had to show her that I meant every word when I said I cared about her.

I just had no idea how.

Talking to Ella was pointless. If the slam of the door in my face wasn’t enough of a clue, the way her footsteps stomped away made it crystal clear. I stood there for a moment, staring at the closed door like an idiot, trying to think of what to do next. Nothing came to mind.

Frustrated, I pulled out my phone and opened the group chat with Max and Dylan.

Me: Ella found out about the bet.

It took less than a second for the notifications to start popping up.

Max: Shit.

Dylan: What the hell? How?

Max: Dude, I wouldn’t like to be you right now.

Gee, thanks, Max. Like I didn’t already know. Ignoring his unhelpful comment, I quickly typed another message.

Me: Did either of you make it slip? Or tell anyone else?

The typing indicators flashed as both of them responded.

Max: Hell no, man. I’ve kept my mouth shut.

Dylan: Same here. Nobody knows but us.

That didn’t make me feel any better. If it wasn’t them, then who the hell told her? And why now, on our wedding day?

Dylan: Look, we’ll try to help. Maybe if we explain it was a stupid joke and it ended ages ago—

Me: She’s not exactly in the mood to listen right now.

Max: Yeah, no kidding. Good luck, man.

I sighed, thanking them before turning off my phone.

Great. My wedding night, and my wife wanted nothing to do with me. I didn’t even get the chance to explain or apologize, not that I thought she’d listen anyway. Ella wasn’t just mad—she was hurt, betrayed, and livid. And honestly? She had every right to be.

I looked back at the closed door. Part of me wanted to knock again, to try one more time to get through to her. But I wasn’t in the mood to be humiliated twice in one night.

With a heavy sigh, I turned and made my way to one of the guest rooms. If she wanted nothing to do with me, fine. I wasn’t about to push her. One day lost. One night of this cold war. I’d just have to make it up to her somehow.

But as I lay there staring at the ceiling, I couldn’t shake the nagging feeling in my gut. The bet was stupid, immature, and wrong—but it was over. Long over. Somehow, I needed to make her see that. Even if it took everything I had.

As I lay staring at the ceiling in the guest room, my mind kept spinning in circles, piecing together what I could. If Ella had told her father about the bet, I wouldn’t even be lying here right now. Oh no, Mr. Kingsley would have skinned me alive before I had the chance to say "I do."

And boy, if Ella did tell him? I was dead meat walking. There wouldn’t be enough time in the world to explain, apologize, or grovel. Mr. Kingsley wasn’t the kind of man to take betrayal lightly—especially when it involved his daughter.

But then, thinking about the day, I realized something. Ella had been all smiles with her father during the reception, even joking with him when he gave his toast. She’d acted like nothing was wrong, like the picture-perfect bride in her father’s eyes. That gave me a small sliver of relief. If she hadn’t already told him, then she probably didn’t plan to. At least not yet.

Still, the "not yet" loomed over me like a storm cloud.

One wrong move, one more reason for her to push that button, and Mr. Kingsley would know everything. I couldn’t let that happen. I had to fix this. I had to get through to her before she decided to unleash her wrath in the form of her father’s iron fist. 𝗳𝚛𝗲𝕖𝕨𝕖𝗯𝚗𝚘𝕧𝕖𝗹.𝗰𝗼𝕞

But how? Right now, Ella wouldn’t even look at me, let alone hear me out.

I groaned, running my hands through my hair. "Great start to married life, Jason," I muttered bitterly. If this was how our first day as husband and wife went, I didn’t want to imagine what tomorrow would look like. But one thing was for sure—I had to tread carefully, or I wouldn’t just lose my wife. I’d lose everything.

So much for my grand plan to win her over in a year. That hope was now as shattered as the trust Ella once had in me—if she ever had any at all. Instead of spending this year slowly showing her my feelings, proving that I could be the man she needed, I now had to dedicate the first half just to atone for my stupid mistake.

And the other half? That would be a gamble. If—if—she ever forgive me, only then could I start trying to win her heart. But that was assuming she’d give me a second chance, which, judging by her icy demeanor today, seemed almost impossible.

I clenched my fists, frustration boiling in my veins. "Why did I ever bring out that damn bet?" The words felt sour in my mouth, a bitter reminder of my own immaturity and stupidity. What was supposed to be a harmless game had turned into a nightmare, and now I was paying for it in spades.

But no matter how hard this would be, I wasn’t going to give up. Not on Ella. Not on us. Deep down, beneath all the anger she had for me, I believed there was still a chance. I’d seen glimpses of it before—the way she smiled at me when she thought no one was watching, the rare moments we laughed together like friends. Those moments couldn’t have been fake, could they?

I sighed, my heart heavy but resolute. "One step at a time," I muttered to myself. First, I had to earn her trust back. Only then could I even dream of earning her love.

It wasn’t going to be easy. Hell, it might even be impossible. But for Ella? I was willing to fight like my life depended on it—because, in a way, it did.