Total pages in book: 97
Estimated words: 96046 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 480(@200wpm)___ 384(@250wpm)___ 320(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 96046 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 480(@200wpm)___ 384(@250wpm)___ 320(@300wpm)
He didn’t have social media accounts that I could find. That made it easier for me. But his friend Candace did have social media. And if I checked her page daily, as I tended to do on my phone at night, one of these days I was going to see something that would upset me.
I’d first browsed Candace’s page with genuine curiosity. Once Dorian had told me she was doing well and had two kids now, I had to see it for myself. I’d felt so much joy as I scrolled through the photos of her and Chandler playing with their beautiful kids. But months later, I knew my daily checking had everything to do with getting a glimpse of Dorian. To torture myself? Maybe. But also to see if he was okay, and to maybe catch a smile on his face so I didn’t have to feel so terrible about my decision.
But today I got more than I’d bargained for.
Candace had posted a photo taken at what I recognized as the pool area at Dorian’s mansion. Chandler lifted their beautiful little boy into the air from the water, but the background is what caught my attention. I used my thumb and index finger to zoom in on what looked to be Dorian sitting in one of the lounge chairs with a woman leaning against his chest. It was a little blurry, yet she seemed beautiful. No surprise there. She also seemed to have an amazing figure. My heart sank. Why did I have to have this reaction?
I wanted Dorian to move on, didn’t I? That’s what I’d told myself. But in all reality, most of what I’d told myself these past few months had been disingenuous. I was the only one who knew that every moment I’d spent away from Dorian since he came to Ohio had been agonizing. And I wasn’t doing all that great a job being discreet about my online research, either. This past week, Casey had asked me more than once what I was doing on the computer while he sat on the other side of the living room watching TV. I’d blown it off and said I was just scrolling.
I was about to leave Instagram when I noticed that the photo I’d been looking at was actually the first in a slideshow of multiple photos. The temptation was real. Adrenaline coursed through me as I debated whether to slide my finger across to the left to look at the other images.
My finger hovered until I finally bit the bullet and swiped. The second image was Candace applying sunscreen to her little girl. The third was Dorian and Chandler holding up their beers. I lingered on that one because it was the first time I’d gotten a good look at Dorian’s face since I last saw him. He looked so beautiful with his black hair slicked back from the water. How I missed a lazy day at the pool with him. My heart beat faster with every second. Had I made the right choice in keeping my family together? I wasn’t sure. But my love for Dorian had never been up for debate. I’d always love him. A part of me had still loved him even when I thought he’d intentionally ended us.
I braced myself and finally swiped to the last photo. My heart sank, because it was exactly what I’d dreaded: a close-up and clearer version of Dorian’s new girlfriend, sitting on his lap with her arm around him. As the blood rose to my face, I whispered to myself, “This is what you wanted. You need him to move on so you can move on with your life. This is good. You should be happy for him.”
All lies.
Consumed by jealousy, I didn’t realize my finger was still on the image until a giant heart appeared on the screen.
Oh no.
Shit. Shit. Shit!
I’d accidentally liked the photo. I immediately unliked it. But the damage had been done. People got notifications whenever someone liked one of their photos, even if the liker retracted it. It was too late to take back my mistake. Candace didn’t have very many followers. It seemed to be just close family and friends, even if her photos were public. So she wouldn’t likely miss the notification.
Fuck!
But it was time to pick Rosie up. So I swallowed my humiliation and put my phone away. Dread knotted in my stomach the entire way to the preschool. It lightened a bit as I saw my smiling daughter running toward the car. Get back to reality, Primrose.
The teacher opened the door and got her settled in the backseat.
“You look like you had a good day, honey.”
My daughter squealed in delight. “We got to pet the animals!”
“We had the animal man come today,” her teacher explained. “He brought all sorts of critters with him. The kids loved it.”