“For fuck’s sake.” Glancing at Logan, I see he has his phone out as well.
“What is it now?” I quickly scroll to see what he’s looking at.
“Brian Marshal just made his own post in the group asking if anyone knows who the woman is. What the fuck is wrong with him?” he asks, scowling as he continues to read the comments.
“Of course he did. He just wants to stir the pot because he can’t stand Dad. This probably made his day.” Brian went toschool with my parents and rumor has it he had a crush on my mom, and she chose my dad instead. It was like 25 years ago; he needs to get over it already.
“He’s so miserable and boring he needs to gossip about other people to feel anything,” I say as I continue to read the comments on the original post.
“Look, there’s another post by whiterook16.” Logan shows me his phone. Yep, at 2:30 p.m. more photos of my father hugging the same woman have been shared. Arms circling her waist, her back is to the camera as my dad looks down at her with adoring eyes and a smile. He looks so happy. They are standing beside his car, but I can’t tell where the picture was taken.
I slowly climb off Logan’s lap and move onto the cushion beside him, blanket forgotten on the floor where it lands, and he instantly clasps my left hand in his. What the actual fuck? A couple of random photos of my father being overly friendly is one thing that could be easily explained away. Maybe? This second batch of pictures, not so much. Nausea is beginning to settle in my stomach, and my head begins to ache.
“Everyone thinks you are a devoted family man. Too bad this isn’t your wife, Dick. I wonder how Hannah will feel knowing her daddy isn’t as perfect as she thinks he is?”
Nobody calls him Dick, so this was obviously a stupid play on his name.
More than thirty people comment on the post. Some defend my father, outraged at the poster. Others harshly criticize him, and those comments are hard to read. Whiterook16 stays silent, quietly liking each comment.
“I don’t understand why anyone would take the pictures let alone post them. It’s creepy, right?” I ask Logan as I continue to read the comment section.
“It’s insane. Like, stalker-level insane,” he agrees.
At 2:45 p.m. two more pictures are posted of my father clearly kissing the same woman. Hands in her hair, gripping her head. The woman has been further pixelated to conceal her identity, but my father is in plain sight. Somebody took the time to pixelate the side of her face, but you can tell it was the same woman from the earlier posts. Who is she? A client? This time I know exactly where the photo was taken. At my family’s cabin on Crystal Lake, I would know that view anywhere. I can’t believe my dad would bring another woman into our home.
“Isn’t this cozy?
Maybe your perfect family isn’t so perfect after all.”
Fifty comments. I know because I count and read each one. Brian’s thread is still going strong. Words like disappointing, hypocrite, outraged, and arrogant are common themes. There are several comments pitying my mom and me. Abandoning his own phone face down on the table, Logan wraps a protective arm around my body.
“Are you sure you want to see this? You don’t have to,” he asks in a soothing tone. His voice contradicts the anger I feel radiating from his body.
“I need to know. I can’t pretend this isn’t happening, while the entire town has a front row seat,” I whisper, squeezing his thigh. Thankfully he’s here with me, I would be completely losing my shit if I was alone right now. Even angry Logan is a calming presence to me.
I gasp when the final grainy photo is shared. There he is, my father, leaning back on a leather couch in his office with the woman straddling his lap, skirt bunched up around her waist. Her feet are bare. Shoes forgotten, fallen to the floor. There is no denying what they are doing. It’s an image that will be seared into my brain for the rest of my life, I’m certain.
My body is vibrating with anxiety, and I feel like I am going to throw up any second. My eyes are burning from unshed tears as I read the text under the photo.
“Checkmate. You’re finished.
Rook takes Knight.”
That’s it. In exactly one hour my world flipped upside down. This doesn’t feel real, but I have seen the evidence.
Jumping from the couch, almost tripping over the blanket on the floor, I rush from the room into the bathroom where I violently empty the contents of my stomach into the toilet. Logan is right behind me, pulling my hair away from my face, rubbing his hand in circles on my back. Standing on shaky legs, I make my way to the sink, rinse my mouth with cold water and look at Logan. “How could he? How could he do this to Mom?”
The one thing I have always been confident about is how much my parents love each other. He has always been so wonderful to her. I don’t know what to do, she is going to be absolutely devastated. I need to talk to her right away, but what do I say?
“I don’t know,” he says shaking his head in disbelief. “What can I do? What do you need?” His chocolate brown eyes search mine. Frozen, I stare at him blankly as he reaches for my hand, leads me back to the couch and pulls me down next to him.
Picking up my phone, I refresh the page, and my eyes widen in disbelief. “Oh my god, the posts are gone. All of them!” I shriek, thrusting it in his face.
“Do you think a moderator removed them? Is Brian’s post still there?” Logan looks back and forth between my eyes and the phone clutched in my hand.
“I can’t believe this is happening,” I repeat for at least the tenth time. Whether removed by the poster or a moderator I’m not sure, but evidence of my father’s complete betrayal is now gone. “Of course, Brian’s post is still up. We couldn’t be that lucky.”
Bending forward, I rest my elbows on my knees. The phone startles me when it begins to ring. Glancing at the display, I groan when I see it’s my father calling. I’m not ready to speak with him, I need to collect myself and check on Mom first. As quickly as I can dismiss it, he calls back. This repeats three more times before Logan gently takes the phone from my hand just as I am about to throw it across the room.
