Page 43 of Golden Ruin

Tiffany pretends to be bashful, tucking her hair behind her ear as she quietly thanks Marla for the compliment.

I’m trying to be positive, trying not to see red as I stare at Sterling’s choice for a wife. He went for the typical model-type, like most pro athletes. I shouldn’t be surprised, but I pegged him for being a little deeper than that.

Guess people change.

I shift on the floor, hating that I even care about shit like that. Because I shouldn’t care about it.

At all.

But a flash of something rushes through me, and I look down at my clothes–an oversized hoodie I left unzipped, a black tank top and stretch pants. Then, I fidget with my hair a bit, and it dawns on me that I’m nitpicking my appearance. It didn’t take long for Tiffany’s perfect makeup, her expensive clothes and diamonds to make me feel insecure.

And I hate that, too.

I focus on the screen again, listening closer.

“Ok, so, when I told my viewers I was having you on the show, they immediately started flooding my inbox with questions to ask. And the number one thing on everyone’s mind is are you and Sterling Golden still a thing?”

All the girls are silent, and I realize we’re all kind of holding our breath as we wait for Tiffany to answer.

“Because we’ve all noticed the changes,” Marla reasons. “He’s been noticeably absent from your social posts, you’ve been spending a ton of time here in Miami, and… I’m not seeing an engagement ring. So… what’s the tea, girl?”

Tiffany takes a deep breath but holds onto her smile. “Well, I suppose I knew this would come up,” she laughs. “Which is why I suppose I should’ve had an answer ready.”

Marla shakes her head. “Absolutely not. Because that would’ve been the cleaned up, neat and tidy answer. You don’t have to do that here. We keep it real.”

Of course she wants that. Because raw and messy equals good ratings.

Tiffany locks eyes with Marla for a moment. Then, when she lowers her gaze and nods, I brace myself.

“We broke up,” she admits. “Not even a week ago, actually.”

My girls all look at me, maybe thinking I knew, but this is all new to me too.

“Shit. I’m so sorry,” Marla apologizes. “Was it unexpected? Or was it one of those things where you kind of felt it in the air for a while before it actually happened?”

Tiffany shakes her head, reaching for a tissue when Marla offers her the box.

“A little of both, I guess. I mean, our relationship’s been struggling since our move to Cypress Point, but if you ask Sterling, things were starting to shift long before that. But I’m like, what the fuck? If you felt something was off, why let me uproot my life and follow you, you know?”

Marla reaches for Tiffany’s hand, nodding with fake concern marking her expression.

“Men can be such asses. Half the time they can’t tell up from down. Let alone recognize when they have a good thing going.”

“Right?” Tiffany agrees. “Like, I get that he’s got a lot going on with his career, and his son, but there was no reason I should’ve felt like I’m the last thing on his list of priorities.”

“Absolutely not,” Marla chimes in. “And speaking of his son, there was a fire recently. It’s my understanding that no one was seriously hurt, correct?”

Tiffany nods. “No, his son’s fine, thank God. But that situation opened a whole new can of worms he swears has nothing to do with calling off our engagement. I’m not an idiot, though. I have eyes and… something’s definitely up.”

Marla tilts her head, arching a brow. She’s intrigued, smells blood in the water.

“What do you mean? Is it some kind of baby-mama-drama?” Marla teases with an excited smile, leaning in because she knows Tiffany wants to break, wants to tell it all.

My heart races, wondering what kind of spin she’s about to put on my staying here, what kind of scandal she’s about to attach to me and my son’s names.

A sharp eye roll from Tiffany has Marla dialing it in even more, practically frothing at the mouth as Tiffany’s hatred for me becomes apparent.

“Uh-oh. What’s that about? You don’t like her?”