AllFreeNovel
Share Us
Then, every time I tried to visit afterward, he had a reason why it wasn’t a good time.
I’d fretted, but I kept reminding myself that he was going through a hard time.
Two months ago, I broke down and opened an Instagram account. Graham had used his regularly, but I hated social media and swore I’d never open an account. But, I decided to see if he’d been posting.
When I got it set up, I searched for him and what I saw turned my stomach. It wasn’t what he posted … those were mostly workout videos and a few personal pictures of him and his friends.
It was the ones he was tagged in. They were mostly events. Restaurant openings, even a few movie premiers. But in them, he was with this woman. Nanette. And they looked like a couple. And then, there were all of these pictures of him with his friends, with the hashtag #4Horsemen. Apparently, Graham was Hollywood’s new it personal trainer and up-and-coming Instagram personality.
I called him. I asked him directly to tell me what was going on. He explained it all away. She was his agent, and they went to events together to help raise his profile and bring him more high-dollar clients. He told me a story about how he and his friends had been photographed at a polo match, and someone posted it and gave them that hashtag. That too, apparently, was all about gaining new clients. The money he made paid for his mother’s care and paid his tuition.
My grandfather’s will was ironclad—nothing from my trust fund until I was twenty-five. That was seven years away. I couldn’t even offer to help him. So, I kept my mouth shut. My jealousy wasn’t more important than his mother.
He promised me as soon as life calmed down, things would get back to normal. He missed me. Loved me. We’d see each other soon.
I believed him.
At eighteen, I have enough college credits to be a junior and I know if I work hard enough, I can graduate this year. I’ve been working with my mother’s team of therapists and doctors to get her to a place where she can move to an assisted living facility. It’s meant hours of sessions each week. It’s meant painful conversations and lots of sleepless nights. But, I don’t mind.
I’ve always been a destination-oriented person. I’ll suffer the journey if I know at the end of it, I’ll be where I want to be. And where I want to be is free to share my life with Graham. And these past few months, I told myself I could and would wait for him. Because he promised he was mine.
He had lied. Made a mockery of me. I had sat in the restaurant and watched him with another woman and it had destroyed me.
Using my pounding head as an excuse, I left an hour after I got there.
I went back to my hotel room and stared at myself in the mirror. I had never resented my less-than-conventional features more than I did at that moment.
I carry my ancestors proudly on my face and body. My Iroquois grandfathers live in the deep-set slant of my eyes. My Iranian grandmother stakes claim to my broad mouth and the generous curve of my hips. I come from proud, ancient people with a rich history and beautiful culture. I’ve got an exceptionally quick mind, and I’m brave, and my heart is true. I know that I have the capacity to make a positive difference in the world. Those are the things my father taught me were important when I was a girl. So, that I wasn’t beautiful in the way women who are extolled for that virtue are never bothered me.
I thought who I was would be enough for Graham.
All of that came crashing down on me last night.
I look down the row at his friends and family. Their faces mirror what I’m feeling. He’s everyone’s best friend. Everyone’s touchstone. We all love him. I’m glad he has that. He deserves to be loved.
I don’t know Nanette beyond what I saw yesterday and what I’ve seen today. But, I can tell that her beauty is only skin deep. There is nothing loving about her pestilent presence.
Clearly, for Graham, that’s enough … or maybe, with his new-found fame, it’s everything.
I shake myself and force my attention back to the ceremony. I try to remember why I’m here. I’m proud of him. I want him to be happy. I just wish there could be more for me.
When Graham’s name booms over the loud speaker, I stand up and clap. I cheer at the top of my lungs. My heart swells with pride and elation. He’s my best friend. Even if I’m not his anymore.
Most of the crowd joins me. And, in what feels like part of the recently recurring theme of our relationship, my voice is drowned out. Just as he turns to smile for the official photographer, he lifts his face and scans the crowd until his gaze lands on me and his face lights up in a smile that makes my foolish heart beat wildly with love for him.
When our eyes lock, the stadium falls away. For just a few seconds, Graham and I are in our hammock, reading and talking.
But the sweet aftertaste of my heart’s flutters has turned bitter. Those smiles are false flags. They aren’t enough anymore.
I watch his grin turn into a beautiful, soul deep, happy smile as he sees his mother and friends sitting next to me.
I know the minute his gaze lands on Nanette because his smile falls—not just a little, but it completely disappears. He waves feebly before he hurries offstage.
What the hell is going on?
Graham struts back to his seat. He’s the walking picture of confidence. He looks so happy. His hair is pulled away from his face in a rare ponytail. I only get to see him like this when he’s sleeping. Or when we’re working out together. Otherwise, it’s always down. One lock hangs over his left eye, giving his otherwise “American as apple pie” look an edge.
“He has fans here, Apollo,” his mother says, and I turn to look at her.
