Page 122 of Married to Lies

With a nod, I walked into MyHome with Steve at my back. For a moment, I looked around, taking it all in. The wall of sticky notes—the start of my love story. The Caf where Jada and I formed our friendship. The barista I could always count on for a good drink and conversation.

MyHome had really become home, and I’d miss working here every day. But I was glad I could come back any time to see my husband.

Today, Jada and I were meeting for a drink in the Caf before our first double date.

She waved at me from one of the tables and I walked over to her, giving her a big hug. Then I bent to smile at Twyla in her carrier. “You’re just the prettiest girl,” I said, tucking her little hand around my pointer finger.

Twyla slept away, and I eyed Jada. “You’re always talking about her keeping you up, but the girl is forever asleep!”

Jada scoffed. “Come visit at two in the morning, and she’ll be bright-eyed and bushy-tailed for you!”

I chuckled, sliding into a seat and checking the cup in front of me.

“Dirty chai, just like you like,” Jada said.

I smiled and took a grateful sip. I was about to ask if she was excited for our first double date when Dominic called out, “Mama! You need to hear my demo!”

I turned in my chair to see him coming around the coffee counter with his phone. He had on his uniform and apron, but still looked punk rock with his long hair and eyeliner.

“Demo?” I asked.

“Like a song?” Jada added.

He nodded. “The song I wrote about you—it’s online now. It’s called ‘The One Who.’” He put the phone on the table between us. “Listen and then bring it back. Duty calls.”

After he was a good few feet away, Jada whispered, “I hope this is good because I can’t lie. I’m too tired for that.”

“Fingers crossed,” I replied.

I pressed play on his phone, feeling Dominic’s eyes on my back.

The song started with a guitar riff, and I raised my eyebrows, already impressed. “The audio quality’s really good,” I told him over my shoulder.

“Listen!” he chided.

I mimicked zipping my lips closed and listened to the lyrics. Each one was surprisingly poetic, but the bridge stuck in my mind the most.

The one who got away

becomes the one who shows you what’s possible

becomes the one who’s a part of your story,

becomes the one who you think of from time to time,

becomes the one who’s a happy memory

because one day the one who got away

becomes just someone along the way.

As the song faded away, I realized tears were falling down my cheeks. I was so moved by the music. Jada looked at me agape. “Wow,” she breathed.

“Wow.” I nodded and wiped at my tears. The song had just been another reminder that no matter how much I tried to be invisible, people saw the real me. And maybe I really was worth seeing. All of me, not just the parts I curated for public consumption.

I hadn’t realized Dominic had come closer until he asked, “Tell me you didn’t hate it.”

I stared at the guy with long hair, a strip dyed electric blue, like he refused to look boring even in his barista uniform. “You wrote that?” I asked.