PEOPLE YOU MAY KNOW
PRESENT
Ican’t do another night of cold dinner, alone in that empty house. Every day I come this much closer to cutting my losses and scrapping this whole remodel thing. I’m not nearly as skilled as I thought I was, and it’s taking forever to gut and rebuild every inch of the house.
Work was stressful, so I’m treating myself to a hot meal at Sagebrush diner. I take up residence in a booth that’s seen better days while I scroll through social media, waiting for my order to be done. There’s a red notification, indicating I have an unread message. It’s the same message that’s been hanging out in my inbox since I was in the hospital. I wasn’t ready to read it then, and I’m still not ready.
Ignoring it, I keep scrolling, in search of anything else.
After Ellie broke things off with me, she blocked me on everything, including social media. At the time, it hurt, because the message was clear—I wasn’t welcome in her life anymore. The more time that passed, though, the more grateful I became. I never had to worry about depressinglylooking at her happy life without me. There wasn’t a fear that I’d drink too much one night and message her, likely making a fool of myself. Now, it’s been so long, I’m not even sure she’s on social media.
My eyes slide over to the kitchen to see if they’re bagging up my food. By the looks of it, they’re not. I stare back down at my phone and curiosity gets the best of me.
Quickly, I look around, as if someone is watching me about to creep on my ex. No one seems to be paying attention, so I proceed, and type in her name. To my surprise, she’s the first to pop up in the search.
When did she unblock me?
I click her profile and get flooded with so many images at once, my eyes don’t know where to settle. Ellie with her family. Ellie and Scottie in Chicago. Ellie in a bikini on the beach holding a margarita. My gaze snags on that one a little longer than it should.
So fucking beautiful.
Growing up, she was insecure about her height, always the tallest girl in our class. She takes after Jack’s side of the family, tall and thin. My mom used to call her “flaquita” and would tease her that she needed to eat more. I had to have A LOT of talks with my mom to knock that shit off. She didn’t mean it in a negative way, it’s just common in Mexican culture to end up with a nickname that’s usually your biggest insecurity.
Everything she was insecure about, I only thought made her more attractive. I liked that she was tall, that when I held her, I could stare into her eyes. I liked the way she fit against me, as if our bodies were meant to be intertwined, every curve aligning perfectly.
The more I scroll, the more it aches to see all the life she’s lived without me. Every picture is a glimpse into a life I know nothing about. I heard through old buddies that she had moved back to Red Mountain after college, which surprisedme because she was always adamant in having no interest in living in our small town. It seems even though her plans changed, her life looks anything but small. Filled with travel and adventures—everything she used to dream of. She looks happy. And I wonder if she is happy. It’s easy to look happy for a snapshot that took a second to take, when in reality your life is falling apart.
None of her posts show her with another man, which, embarrassingly, brings me a sense of relief. But then again, she’s the kind of person who erases someone completely once she’s done with them—something I know all too well. I can only imagine the trail of broken hearts she’s left behind since me.
“Order number ten,” the teenager behind the counter calls out.
I stand, still distracted by my deep dive, and accidentally collide with something soft as a cloud of warm amber embraces me.
My obstacle makes a girlish grunting sound at the same time my phone crashes to the floor. “Sorry about that,” I say before I realize who it is.
Ellie.
She stiffens and turns to me, her clear green eyes meeting mine. Then her gaze darts down, to my phone that’s facing up. She bends down to retrieve it and stares at the screen.
“Is this my?—”
I snatch the phone out of her hand, the tips of our fingers making the slightest contact, and it sends a shock up my arm. “Yep,” I quip. “You came up underPeople You May Know.”
Her brows raise and I know she knows I’m lying. “Sure,” she teases, smiling.
Smiling…
Shaking my head, I look at her again to confirm I’m not imaginingit.
I’m not. It’s still there, and it’s aimed at me.
It’s the first genuine, full-fledged smile I’ve received from her, and fuck, was it worth the wait. I would’ve waited a lifetime for that smile if I had to.
“You caught me.” My face heats, admitting the truth.
“Order number ten!” the worker repeats.
I nod, gesturing to the counter. “That’s my order.”
