The Intervention

 Lily stared out the window of the sitting room, her hands cradling a mug of warm tea. The moon streamed in, painting golden patterns across the table, but the light felt out of place given the tension sitting between her and Jake. He sat across from her, his hands clenched, eyes fixed on the steam rising from his coffee.

 "I just don't get it, Jake," she finally said, her voice trembling.

 "Why did you suddenly start treating me like I'm some kind of enemy? I haven't done anything to hurt you."

Jake's jaw tightened, his breath hitching for a moment. He looked away, as if the words he needed were written somewhere in the air. After a long silence, he said,

 "You're right, Lily. You haven't done anything wrong. It's… me."

Lily raised an eyebrow, unsure whether to feel relieved or more frustrated.

 "What do you mean, 'you'?"

Jake sighed heavily, leaning forward and resting his elbows on the table. His fingers interlaced as he spoke, his voice low and strained.

 "I wasn't always like that, you know. I used to be… normal. Or at least, I think I was." He chuckled bitterly.

 "But then, Terra happened."

 "Terra?" Lily asked, tilting her head.

 "She was my first serious relationship," Jake explained, his gaze distant.

 "We were together for three years. I thought I'd found my forever person. I trusted her completely—blindly, even. But then… one day, everything fell apart."

Lily watched him carefully, noticing the way his shoulders tensed and his hands trembled slightly.

 "I found out she was cheating on me," Jake continued, his voice cracking.

 "For months. With someone I thought was my best friend. And what's worse, when I confronted her, she didn't even try to deny it. She said…" He paused, swallowing hard.

 "She said I was too controlling. Too possessive. That made her feel trapped."

Lily's heart sank.

 "I'm so sorry, Jake. That must've been awful."

 "It was," Jake admitted.

 "But the worst part wasn't losing her. It was realizing that maybe she was right. I started questioning everything about myself. Was I too overbearing? Did I smother her without meaning to? Or… was it her way of justifying what she did?" 

He rubbed his face, his frustration evident.

 "After that, I told myself I'd never let anyone get that close again. I wouldn't give anyone the power to hurt me like that. But then… you came along."

Lily blinked in surprise.

 "Me?"

 "Yeah," Jake said, meeting her eyes for the first time in what felt like ages.

 "You're kind, honest, and… so good, Lily. It scared me. I kept waiting for the moment you'd hurt me too. Every time you were friendly with someone else, every time you didn't tell me where you were going, I felt this… panic, like history was repeating itself. And instead of dealing with it like a rational person, I tried to control you. To protect myself from the possibility of losing you."

Lily sat back, letting his words sink in. She could see the pain etched across his face, the guilt in his eyes.

 "But I see now how wrong I've been," Jake said softly.

 "You didn't deserve any of it. You're not Terra. And I can't keep punishing you for something that wasn't your fault. I… I need help, Lily. To fix this. To fix me."

Lily felt a lump rise in her throat. She wanted to be angry, to ask why he hadn't just told her all this sooner. But looking at him now, so raw and vulnerable, her anger melted into something softer.

 "Jake," she said, her voice gentle but firm.

 "I care about you, but I can't be the one to fix you. You need to work on this for yourself. For both of us."

Jake nodded, tears brimming in his eyes.

 "I will. I promise."

 Lily reached across the table and squeezed his hand.

 "I hope you do," she said.

 "Because I don't want to lose you, either."

And for the first time in a long time, Jake allowed himself to believe that healing was possible. Lily decides to give their relationship a second chance. By the way, the relationship is about fighting and getting back today.

 The living room was unusually quiet for a Saturday evening. Lily glanced around at the familiar faces of her closest friends: Claire, her best friend since childhood, who was perched tensely on the armrest of the sofa; Maya, the voice of reason in their group, sitting cross-legged on the carpet; and Jason and Sophie, their occasional partners-in—crime, who now exchanged uneasy glances. The room felt charged, a silent storm brewing.

 "Okay, what's going on?" Lily asked, her voice tinged with nervous laughter.

 "This feels like some kind of intervention."

Claire, who had always been bold and direct, took a deep breath and leaned forward.

 "That's because it is, Lily."

Lily blinked, stunned.

 "What?"

 "It's about Jake," Maya said softly, her eyes meeting Lily's.

 "We're all worried about you."

Lily frowned, her defenses immediately rising.

 "Worried? Why? Jake hasn't done anything wrong."

Jason spoke next, his voice cautious but firm.

 "Lily, he's controlling you. Claire and Maya have told us everything. The constant calls and texts when you're out with us, the way he shows up unannounced, and how you've started skipping plans to avoid upsetting him."

Lily crossed her arms, her stomach churning.

 "That's not fair. Jake just cares about me. He's protective, not controlling."

 "Protective is one thing," Sophie interjected, her expression pained.

 "But this is different, Lily. You've changed since you started dating him. You're quieter, more withdrawn. You're not… you."

 "I haven't changed!" Lily snapped, her cheeks flushing.

 "You're all overreacting."

Claire stood abruptly, pacing the room.

 "Lily, think about it! Remember last month when we went to that concert? Jake called you fifteen times because you didn't reply fast enough. Fifteen! And when you finally answered, he accused you of lying about where you were."

Lily opened her mouth to protest, but Claire didn't stop.

 "And what about the dinner last week? He wouldn't even let you talk to the waiter without hovering like some kind of watchdog."

 "That's just… how he is," Lily said, her voice faltering.

 "He's had a hard past. He's been hurt before, and he's working on it."

 "But at what cost?" Maya asked gently.

 "Lily, it's not your job to fix him. You shouldn't have to explain your every move or feel guilty for spending time with us."

Lily clenched her fists, the weight of their words pressing down on her. She wanted to argue, to tell them they didn't understand Jake like she did. But a part of her couldn't ignore the truth in their concerns.

 "You don't see the side of him, I do," she said, her voice trembling.

 "He's kind and sweet, and he's trying. He's not perfect, but who is? He loves me, and I love him."

Claire stopped pacing, her expression softening but still resolute.

 "Lily, no one's saying you don't love him. But love shouldn't feel like this. It shouldn't feel like you're walking on eggshells or cutting yourself off from the people who care about you."

 "Cutting myself off?" Lily repeated, her voice rising.

 "You're the ones making me choose right now! This—this intervention—it feels like an ultimatum!"

 "It's not an ultimatum," Sophie said quickly.

 "We just want you to see what we see."

 "Well, what I see is a group of people who don't trust my judgment," Lily shot back, tears brimming in her eyes.

 "I'm happy with Jake. Why can't you just be happy for me?"

Claire's voice cracked as she replied,

 "Because we *are* your friends, Lily. And friends don't stand by and watch someone they care about get hurt."

 "I'm not getting hurt!" Lily shouted, the words echoing in the room.

Silence fell, thick and suffocating. Lily's chest heaved, and she looked at each of them, her closest friends, feeling like the walls were closing in.

 "If you can't support me," she said, her voice barely above a whisper,

 "Then maybe you're not really my friends after all."

Claire flinched as if struck. Maya's eyes widened in shock, and Jason and Sophie exchanged pained looks.

 "Lily, don't do this," Claire pleaded, her voice breaking.

 "Please."

But Lily was already grabbing her coat.

 "I can't do this right now," she said, her voice shaky.

 "I need to go."

Without another word, she walked out the door, the cold evening air biting her skin. Her phone buzzed in her pocket. She knew without looking that it was Jake.

 Jake had been understanding when she told him about the intervention, though his anger at her friends was clear. He'd called them toxic, jealous, and even manipulative.

 "They just don't want to see you happy," he had said, holding her close.

But as Lily lay there, a nagging thought refused to leave her: why did it feel like she had lost more than just an argument tonight?

 Weeks passed, and the rift between Lily and her friends grew wider. Claire reached out several times, leaving voicemails and sending texts that went unanswered. Maya tried once to visit, but Lily didn't open the door. Jake assured her that cutting ties was for the best, that her friends didn't understand their relationship.

Yet, as the days turned into months, Lily couldn't shake the loneliness creeping in. Jake's love, while intense, felt all-consuming. She missed the easy laughter she used to share with her friends, the way they'd light up her world without expectation or judgment.

One evening, after another argument with Jake over something trivial, Lily found herself scrolling through old photos on her phone. There they were: Claire, Maya, Jason, Sophie, and her. Smiling. Happy. Free.

Tears blurred her vision as she realized how much she had lost—not just her friends, but pieces of herself.

Is love supposed to feel like this?