A Tinder match.I chew my lip.Stare at the screen.
It’s some guy named Fletcher.Or maybe Max.His profile says he enjoys road trips and golf and that he’sfluent in sarcasm, which should be enough of a red flag on its own.
I hover over the notification, thumb twitching.And then I delete the app.Done and done.
Just a tiny, quiet decision to not seek validation from a stranger with abs and a lifted Hilux.
I slide my phone into my pocket, grab a thriller with a dark cover and a twist I won’t see coming, and take it to the counter.The woman ringing me up smiles.‘You’ve got great taste.’
I smile back, because today, I’m trying that on for size.
I don’t do my laundry that day.
Instead, I curl up on the couch in a hoodie I should’ve washed last week and read the entire book in one day.I eat peanut butter from the jar and skip lunch in favour of a poke bowl I order at 5 p.m., a true crime docuseries playing in the background.
I’m mid-bite, teetering on the edge of my seat because the killer offered to take a lie detector test, when the front door bangs open.
I scream.
Then someone else screams.
Then the lights snap on, and I see Issy standing in the doorway, holding her keys like a weapon and looking as shocked as I feel.
‘For fuck’s sake,’ I exhale, heart pounding.‘You scared the shit out of me.’
I swallow the rest of the swear words because Gemma and Billie come tearing in behind her, their dress-up skirts glittering and their faces flushed with youth.
‘AUNTY J!’Billie yells, flinging herself into my arms.
‘Hi, tiny humans,’ I mumble.‘What’s going on?’
I look up at Issy and freeze.
Her face is blotchy.Her mascara’s smudged.
We’ve been here before.She doesn’t say anything.She doesn’t need to.
I turn to the girls, plastering on my most cheerful voice.‘Guess what?I’m putting onMoanaand making popcorn.’
They cheer.It’s the kind of sound that could fool someone into thinking everything is okay.
The girls get settled on the couch, and I walk into the kitchen.Issy follows, slow and stiff.I start the microwave and wait until it’sloud enough to muffle everything else.Then I turn to her and pull her into a hug.She crumples against me like a stack of cards.
I breathe, barely.‘What happened?’
Issy wipes her eyes.‘He got angry.Said something about me spending too much.Then he kicked us out.Just for the night.Said we needed a reminder that nothing’s permanent.’
I go still.Rage coils low in my stomach.
‘I’ll kill him,’ I say.And I mean it.I would snap the neck of any man who dares to make my sister feel like trash.
‘He’s a good man,’ she says quickly.‘Work’s just been …’
‘Stop making excuses for him,’ I snap.‘Leave him.’
She looks at me as if I’m a child.
‘It’s not that easy, J.’
