Page 42 of Rumor Has It

“Fine!” I huff as I sit down and open my laptop.

I tap my pen off the desk as I wait for it to come to life. Trying to hurry it along, I click on the icon more times than needed. I bite my nail impatiently. When it pops up, I go into stalk mode.

“Where are you?” I search the timeline, hoping he’s posted something. “Maisyn needs to add some photos or something on here. Her page looks dead.” I frown, knowing she only keeps it for me.

“For that matter, I need to update her Insta Glow and Twetter too.” I shrug. “Just in case someone gets suspicious.” After Maisyn gave me her login for the book of faces. I noticed he shared a lot from both the other places, so she got one of them too.

“It’s all for the cause.” It sounds legit, so I’m sticking with that story.

I search his social media like an FBI Agent, scouring through his photos and tags. I pick at my nail as I scroll through his entire life, pretending that I’ve never done it a thousand times before now. The first few years here, I did my best not to ask about him.

Maisyn set it up for her business, and he contacted her; the rest is history. She mentioned it in passing, as if she didn’t know what she was saying. I was hooked from the first scroll.

We ladies are resourceful creatures, aren’t we? While men walk in and announce their presence, we stalk. I’m not ashamed, not in the least. I miss him, and I’d love to hear his voice.

“Pretty sure the CIA should hire all women because we could find out everything about a man in a matter of two hours and three girlfriends!” I giggle, hovering over his latest photo. “The government probably named the Stealth bomber after us.”

He hasn’t changed in all these years, not even a hair on that perfect head of his. Sometimes, I can’t help but wonder if I’ve willed her to be his. If I’ve made the right decision by not having a test done.

“But then again, I couldn’t bear to face anything but that he is her father. It would destroy me and the fantasy I’ve built.”

I know, you can hate me later, but right now, no one hates me more than I do. My mistakes continue to haunt me, and I’m not sure if I’m going home to help or to face what I’ve done wrong.

“The only thing I do know is she’s as perfect as they come, and everyone will love her.” I trace the outline of his face on the screen with my finger, remembering all the times I wasted not doing it.

“It’s time to set it straight, to do what I couldn’t at eighteen, to be who I need to be for my daughter to have the life she should have, and not the one I thought was best.”