Five: I didn't tell him I loved him when I had the chance.
I don't know that the last one matters to anyone but me, but I wish he knew.
It may not be possible to fix this situation, but the least I can do is try. Xavier deserves someone to stick up for him. He needs someone to defend him for once, the way he defends and protects not only the soccer ball but the people like me in his life.
"Marley, I've got to try and help. Somehow. At least get it out there that he's not a drunk driver, and he's not in cahoots with Tony. He deserves to play soccer. It's all that matters to him, and he's had nothing but the raw deal. That includes me."
"What are you going to do?"
That's where my bravado starts to falter. "I have no idea."
If my life were a movie, this would be the montage scene showing Marley and me in various positions, sprawled about my apartment, trying to come up with the world's most brilliant plan. There'd be snappy music playing in the background until one of us sits up, points skyward, and exclaims they've figured it out.
Seeing as how my life is not a movie, Marley eventually leaves, and I try to distract myself by scrolling on ClikClak. I don't go to this app like I used to. As soon as I started going viral, it got a little—a lot—overwhelming, so I'd post, but not scroll.
It's not possible to keep track of my followers or those who like my posts either. Especially not now, as there are several videos circulating rehashing the current scandal.
You know, this social media thing is wild. I'm probably one of the most boring people you've ever met, and now I'm bordering on celebrity—or at least notoriety—for no reason, other than my ex was a cheating louse.
But when a video pops up with Chassen Donato—aka Dude Number One—talking about it, I know I've seen enough. My first phone call is to Owen.
"Listen, you know this is all complete and utter bullshit, and I'm going to go Johnny Depp on his Amber Heard's ass and sue him for defamation." I lead with that. As an afterthought I add, "Hello Owen, it's your sister."
"Yeah, I got that, Ophelia. Your name comes up. Who are you trying to sue now?"
"Dude Number One. Chassen, what's his name? You know, yourguestwho completely ruined my life. Xavier's too."
"Yourhusband?" I can practically hear my brother's sneer through the phone.
"Yes, your brother-in-law. His career is finished because of that article."
"I think his career is finished because he almost killed a woman, conspired with a thief, and committed fraud."
"But that's the thing. He did none of those things, and it is irresponsible journalism to print them. Or publish them. Or report them. Whatever online news is called these days."
There's silence on the line, and I'm pretty sure my brother is about to blow me off. I'm totally surprised when he says, "Do you have any proof?"
"Any proof of what?"
"What you claim the truth to be."
I run a mental inventory, but of course, my brain is like the attic on an episode ofHoarders. The only thing I know I have receipts for is the plotting of our fake marriage.
That probably won't be helpful.
"I'm not sure what I have."
"Look into it and get back to me. I can talk to some colleagues and see what we can do."
You could knock me over with a feather with this show of support. "Why?"
"Why what? Isn't this what you wanted?"
"Well, duh. Yeah, but I thought you'd just blow me off as being flighty and frivolous again."
There's a pause on the line. "Ophelia, this could be huge. If what you're saying is true, we could gain a lot of publicity if we take you and Xavier on as clients."
I should have known. He's only helping me to further his career.
