Last night, for the first time since she moved in with me, we slept in separate rooms. I didn’t even bother sleeping on the chair in the corner of her room to slay her nighttime monsters. This morning, I got the hell out of my house at the crack of dawn to avoid her.
Fuck.
It’s like an Arctic storm blew through my carriage house. I swear, icicles are hanging from the ceiling.
As I’m exiting the Pompadour Hotel, my phone chimes.
Alina
You’re on fire. The biggest sports network shared the video of you and your ‘girlfriend’ skating like lovebirds. A bunch of other sports websites did the same. You even made the front page of JustSpotted.com.
She attaches a screenshot of the video views.
Wow.
Alina
Your socials exploded overnight. You have an extra 250,000 followers and counting—mostly women. And the comments, Kaz. Holy shit.
Alina
People are tagging you on their own re-enactments—on and off the ice.
I groan.
Alina
This video is going to take going viral to a whole other level. Your instincts were spot on when you selected the pretty blonde for the job.
Alina
At this rate, no one will remember you were married to Devlyn. Give that woman a raise.
Kazimir
From your fingertips to God’s ears. Nothing would make me happier than for people to forget I was ever married to that woman.
Alina
That’s all you got from my string of texts?
Kazimir
I’m walking into a meeting.
She doesn’t have to know it’s a lie.
Alina
Got it. Catch you later.
My phone chimes with another text message.
Erik
That video of you and Harley is blowing up. You sure it’s fake?
It still is for her.
