“Funny how he didn’t reply to that last one,” she murmurs.
“He had to go look upimpotence, and now he’s stewing.”
“Do you know what I think?” Evelyn says.
I shake my head.
“I think Fletcher’s embarrassed and waiting for you to reach out.”
My heart thumps once, hard, and then I get a whole-body shiver like a horde of chipmunks are racing across my skin with their tiny little feet. “Possibly,” I agree. “But more likely, he has rugby and not me on his brain.”
Lies.
Fletcher doesn’tonlythink about rugby.
He thinks about how to best get attention on rugby. He’s probably thrilled at the attention his post is getting and the suggestion that we, together as a couple, are inspiring ticket sales.
But he also pays attention to what’s going on around him. He’s very observant. Unexpectedly so. And while kind isn’t a word I would’ve associated with him after what he said in that VIP suite my senior year of college, I’ve realized he is.
He’s very kind.
In his own way.
When he decides it’s warranted.
Also, don’t tell me he wouldn’t donate a kidney to his dog if she needed one. And while humans technically can’t donate kidneys to dogs,he still would.
I bite my lip.
And then I pull up my Instagram app, go to Fletcher’s page, steal one particular photo from the collection he posted, and start my own post.
You never know who life will put in your path. When you stay open to the possibilities, magic can happen. #laughter #coachgoldie #lifecoaching
I credit the wedding photographer for the photo, but I don’t hitpost.
Not yet.
Do I want the world to see this photo of Fletcher half smiling at me over dinner while I laugh at something he said?
It sends a very clear message.
I found someone who makes my world better.
And in ten days, I’m leaving the country. I won’t be a prop around here anymore. We’ll need a breakup story. Or awe were accidental friendsstory. He told Miller I’m his girlfriend, and people have started whispering about that too.
We definitely will need a story.
“Messaging him is more direct,” Evelyn says as she leans over my shoulders, peering through her reading glasses at my phone.
“My friendship with Fletcher is based on anything but directness,” I reply.
And that does it.
Mind made up.
I post the picture with the caption, and then I set my phone down and grab my wine spritzer.
“Do you think he’ll—” Evelyn starts, but before she can finish, my phone vibrates loudly on the table.
