I turn for the door when Beth’s phone chimes. Seeing her screen light up, my heart leaps. I reach for her phone. Has she somehow gotten a signal? We have different phone carriers, so maybe, just maybe—
I sink onto the bed, recognizing the pop-up from a reminder app:Board Meeting tomorrow 9am. The app must not require an internet connection. I dismiss the alarm and am about to check to make sureBeth’s phone hasn’t miraculously gotten a signal when an unsent message notification from Instagram appears in the middle of the screen. Seeing the recipient makes me pause with my finger hovering over the phone. I tap the screen to see the full message. As I start to read, my heart drops into my stomach.
Unsent message: I’m so sorry, babe. My work has been crazy, and I promised them I would stay for a few more weeks before quitting. I know you’ll understand. I love you so much and can’t wait to move in and spend the rest of our lives together!
The room sways, and I bite my lip, staring at Beth’s typed words to Matt. It has to be another Matt.But how could Beth be quitting her job and moving in with someone without telling me?
I swipe up, and the phone prompts me for a passcode. I speedily type in the code Beth’s been using since we were kids: 0505. Her birthday.
I hold my breath as it unlocks. I tap the unsent message to see the conversation. Above Beth’s unsent message is the last text she received from Matt. It was three days ago.Where are you??? Is everything okay? I’m all moved into our apartment, and I can’t wait to see you. I thought you’d be here by now. Please let me know you’re okay, baby.Then I see Matt’s profile photo at the top of their chat, and I know it’s the same Matt that I’ve been married to for over a decade.
My hands tremble as I scroll up through the previous messages. I keep reading despite the alarm bells going off in my head, warning me I’ll never be able to unsee the words I’m about to read. As I read Matt’s words, I’m filled with a sickening sense of reliving the moment when I found the topless selfie from twenty-three-year-old Sydney, puckering her lips into an air-kiss above her perky breasts.
I’m out of the house now, baby. I’m free and waiting for you. You can call or text me on my cell now that we don’t have to worry about Palmer finding out about us. I love you and can’t wait until I can lay next to youall night and feel your naked body against mine ...The wind leaves my lungs as if I’ve been hit with an airbag.
A message from Beth.I know I’ll see you in a few days, but it’s killing me having to wait any longer to see you. My whole body aches for you. I wish I could make the drive from Colorado go faster!
Colorado?I thought these messages were from Beth. Confused, I scroll up past Matt’s new apartment address through a lengthy message thread speckled with heart emojis until my finger stops cold on the topless photo that’s already seared in my mind from having seen it once. It’s the woman from Matt’s conference. Sydney. The one he left me for.
Why would Beth have these messages on her phone?Beth is much more tech savvy than I am, but it seems unlikely she could’ve hacked into this woman’s Instagram account. Vomit rises to the back of my mouth. I should stop, but I keep scrolling. I have to know. I move to the top of the chat, which is surprisingly not that far above Sydney’s topless photo. I read the first message Sydney sent to Matt. Like Matt had told me, she reached out to him first.
Hey, Matt! I had so much fun with you in Denver! I just started this Instagram account and was excited to find you! How are you?? This might sound weird, but I miss you. I haven’t ever connected with anyone the way I did with you.
I click on the back arrow at the top of the screen and go to Beth’s profile. Only it’s not Beth’s. It’s Sydney’s. I skim through her posted photos, clicking on the photo of her and Matt at the bar in Denver. I pause, seeing it was posted in April, nearly a month after Matt’s conference. I scroll up and see that more than half of the photos were posted within a few days of each other.
With a knot in my stomach, I clickEdit Profileto view the contact options linked to the account. I gasp, seeing Beth’s email and the samephone number Beth has had since high school. The floor sways as my mind reels with what Beth has done.
She catfished Matt by pretending to be the woman he met in Denver. But why?
Tears blur my vision as the screen goes dark in my hand. I toss the phone onto the bed beside me and bury my face in my hands. My friend. Mybestfriend. How could she?
I recall the devastating moment when I found that photo on Matt’s phone. It was from Beth, not Sydney.
A sob escapes my throat, and it strikes me that her betrayal stings much worse than Matt’s. I’ve known Beth since kindergarten.
Tears slide down my cheeks. Who the hell is she? What else has she lied about? Have I ever known her at all?
“I found the pills.”
I whip around at the sound of Beth’s voice.
“I know what you did.” I raise my phone light to see Beth’s expression.
She blinks while pressing her lips together. “I don’t—”
My hand holding my phone trembles with rage. “I found your messages to Matt from yourfake Instagram account.” The last three words come out a scream.
Salt water sprays against the cabin window.
Beth flinches.
“Why the hell would you do this to me? To my family? What is wrong with you? I thought you were—” My voice breaks. “My best friend.”
I pray for her to tell me that it’s not true. That I’ve somehow gotten it wrong.
When she doesn’t, I add, “You were the one who sent Matt that topless photo of Sydney. How?”
Beth frowns. “You can do pretty much anything with AI now. And yes, I catfished him. I’ve never trusted Matt, and after you told me about him being at the bar all night with that girl in Denver, I wantedto see just how faithful Matt really was. It was a test. To see if he was telling the truth about it being ‘nothing.’”
