Wow.
Ok.
I see this is just a game to you.
Everything inside me froze.
He’s falling for me.
Me.
His wife.
The ghost he abandoned.
The memory he once loved.
And he doesn’t even know it.
I’m the same woman he discarded when I stopped shining, and now, he’s falling for her all over again under a false name and a fake photo.
It’s brutal.
It’s ironic.
It’s poetic justice.
My mouth still remembers him, and I hate that. I hate that his ghost can still drown out Dane’s sweetness. That trauma can still override tenderness.
I lay down on the porch boards, letting the night swallow me whole. My phone buzzed. More messages, more lies.
I drank.
The wine kissed the back of my throat with sharp berry and silk. I drank again. Half the glass disappeared before I set it down beside me, staring out into the dim solar-lit garden the place we built for our sleeping angel.
Still no message from Dane.
My stomach knotted painfully.
Did I sound like a teenage girl?
“Oh, mysterious.”
Jesus.
He’s probably laughing at me in his apartment, regretting ever touching me.
More messages from Blake.
I can see you’re online.
Why won’t you talk to me?
And suddenly I felt…wanted.
In the wrong way.
By the wrong man.
