Chapter One
—prologue—
PANDORA
@QweenPandora:
Oh, my. What have we here?
Looks like Cypress Pointe royalty has no shortage of secrets, but this particular secret is perhaps the deepest of them all.
However, thanks to one of you resourceful sleuths, we now have the answer to a long-standing mystery. A follower, who shall remain anonymous, was leaving work when she spotted #KingMidas and #NewGirl out for a drive. But curiously, the king and queen were a long way from home. So, what choice did our friend have but to follow them, right?
And follow them she did.
Right into the parking lot of an obscure office building belonging to a man known as Dr. Tyler—a legend among local medical professionals.
What sort of medical professional, you ask?
Well, according to the sign hung beside his suite—yes, our friend went the extra mile to get all the deets—we now know Dr. Tyler’s area of expertise… fertility.
So, there you have it, lovelies. It seems the perfect couple isn’t so perfect after all. And thanks to a little slip-up in high school,we also know #KingMidas is perfectly capable of knocking someone up.
Which means this is all on you, #NewGirl.
And now that the cat’s out of the bag, just know we’ll all be watching to see what happens next. Will there be a baby bump in the coming months?
No pressure.
Side note: Speaking of that little high school mishap… is it time to let the world in on your best-kept secret, #KingMidas?
Perhaps we’ll leave it up to fate. Then again, when I get restless, we all know I tend to misbehave :)
But these two aren’t the only members of the #GoldenCrew with their share of drama tonight. Several photos came in of #MrSilver and #TheSubstitute having a heated argument outside Dusty’s Diner. No one can say for certain what the issue was, but something tells me that mystery is simple to solve.
Looking at you, #LostAngel.
Oh, #GoldenCrew, what did we ever do without you around to keep us entertained?
Later, peeps :)
—P
Chapter Two
BLUE
My phone’s been pinging nonstop, and I’m smart enough not to read any of what’s happening on social media. I can assume most are sympathetic, siding with West and I after Pandora’s awful post.
But then there are the others. Those who get off on the gossip, seeing it as nothing more than entertainment.
At the thought of it—my infertility being fair game for the masses to discuss—I curl into myself, pulling the comforter over my shoulder. The pain is real, and I feel it all over.
In my bones.
Adding insult to injury, tonight was already tough for us. The argument here at home with West spilled over to the diner bathroom. Now, we’re in this strange place of limbo that’s followed us right back to ground zero.
West’s words echo in my head, hearing that he hasn’t had time to address the issue with his shoulder because there’s no time. My health, the fertility treatment process, has consumed us. To the point that my husband doesn’t feel there’s room in our lives for him to be cared for…
