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a nasty relationship. He went underground after and we haven’t heard much from him at all. You were going through your own thing at the time, but this shit was like juicy gossip. You have no idea how bad it got.”

“I don’t want to know,” I quickly tell her, shaking my head.

“But –”

“Let me digest the fact I know his name first.”

My head is swimming with endorphins as I look at his photo once more. He’s been such a mystery to me. I don’t want to dive into his history just because it’s plastered on the internet. He didn’t want me to know who he was for a reason. I have to respect that, even if it kills me. I would hate it if he were able to leaf through my life and see my dirty laundry.

Yes, I tell myself. This is the honorable thing to do. The right thing to do.

It’s also the one thing that’s going to drive me bonkers.

I slide the phone back. “Well, there you go then. He’s not a crazed serial killer after all.”

Ana laughs lightly, her eyes glowing with excitement. “I’m literally speechless, Ivy. This is the coolest thing ever, and he messaged you first. I’m so jealous.”

My cheeks heat up. “You have Fernando.”

“Fuck Fernando.”

We both laugh and then stare at each other in awe. My fingers are twitchy. God, I want to see his message, and God, I want to look him up. I resist doing both.

“You have that waiting for you after you leave Derek,” she tells me after a while. “That will be a rebound bang that’ll go down in the history books.”

I disagree. “You’re thinking way ahead. At this point, if I do this, I don’t think I’ll ever bother with a guy again.”

“Swing to the other side, huh?” She wags her brows.

“No! Although I can understand why some women do.”

She giggles and I reflect on my cousin, Marlena, who came out just a year ago. “It’s just a phase,” Mom had said with a roll of her eyes. “She just wants attention.” Never mind Marlena had never had a boyfriend in her life and had always been into chicks, doing whatever she could not to get attention about it until she was ready to let everyone know. But whatever. Once my mother formed an opinion about something, it never changed.

“Stop thinking about your mom,” Ana says sternly.

My mouth drops. “You know me too well.”

“What are best friends for?”

“She’s going to have a heart attack when I tell her I’m done, especially after she turned me out and told me to fix my marriage.”

In more detailed words, she said I had made my choice to marry Derek and I needed to live with it. She was never like this. Before she moved to the other side of the country, her opinions were never so rigid. She had men orbiting her my entire childhood. Now she’s with a religious dude who buys her shoes and goes away on fishing trips.

Ana breaks out into a grin. “Fucking awesome.”

“What?”

“You said, ‘when I tell her’. See, you always follow through.”

I shrug nonchalantly, but Ana’s squealing off her tits, making everyone in the restaurant look our way. “When you do it,” she says quietly, “I’ve got a bedroom just for you, Ivy. It’s not much to look at, but it’s yours.”

I smile, but it’s small and hesitant. I have a storm coming, and I know my soul will be weak once I get hit from all sides. It’s going to get ugly. Really ugly.

When we’re finished our food, Ana drops me off at my apartment. We hug and say our goodbyes. I slip inside and before the elevators are even shut, I’m diving for my phone. Eagerly, I pull it out of my purse and swipe the screen.

I get my fix the second I read his message.

A.W.: I’m going to try this again now that I’m used to rejection (and you would be surprised the spiritual journey one goes down facing relentless rejection of the female kind). Do you want to have an innocent dinner with me, Ivy? I won’t touch you. I promise.

I stare at the message for some time, conflicted. Of course, I want to. That’s not even a question, but I have to be careful. I need to do this the right way. I’m annoyed my mother’s words won’t stop swirling around my head.

I go to my apartment, dazedly thinking about Aidan. Aidan West. I know his name! When I open the door, Derek’s on the couch with his annoying friend Peter. I hear them cheer and I know they’re gaming. I can hear bullets fly off and the sound of a tank blowing up.

“Hey, darling,” Derek says with a smile when he notices me entering. “How was your lunch with Ana?”

I stare at them for a few seconds, sitting there with controllers in their hands, eyes zoned in on the television screen. This is the prelude to the heavy drinking.

“Good,” I faintly respond. “Have you eaten?”

“Yeah.” He gestures with his chin to the coffee table where three empty beer bottles sit. Chocolate wrappers and crumbs are littered over the surface. It’s a goddamn mess.

“Good,” I repeat flatly. “Um…what’re your plans for tonight?”

“Probably the bar,” he answers, eyes still on the screen. “It’s Peter’s birthday. We want to celebrate, so we’re heading out in a few hours.”

“Happy birthday, Peter,” I say emptily.

Peter grunts, eyes on the screen. I look back at Derek as he leans down between his legs and grabs another beer from a carton he’s situated there. It’s already opened, and he takes a huge gulp before settling it back down. Unfortunately, he does it hastily as he’s getting shot in his game, and the bottle ends up tipping over. I stare numbly at the bottle as it spills everywhere, running under the couch, and all over the rug.

I feel another crack inside my chest as he roars angrily at the game, cursing and turning red in the face. He

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