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Nathan went to Ibiza for New Year. Are you kidding me?
Phyllis keeps rattling on, and I keep flicking through the images. Another image of Nathan comes up, and it’s obvious that Phyllis has forgotten these are mixed with hers. It’s a picture of Nathan on a deckchair, at the beach, shirtless. He’s laughing and reaching for the camera.
Nathan, Ibiza, December
Who took this photo?
I stare at it for a moment. He looks so relaxed. My heartbeat begins to thump hard in my chest and I flick through the images again. I get to the next image, and my heart drops. It’s a picture of Robert.
On the same beach as Nathan.
I turn the image over and read the back for confirmation.
Robert, Ibiza, December
Wow.
I sit back in my seat.
And there it is, in black and white. Well, not black and white. More like bright and beautiful colors.
I think back to December, and while I was lying on my couch in the fetal position, crying, he was in Ibiza with Robert.
They are together.
It wasn’t in my imagination at all. All this time, I was blaming myself, thinking that maybe I had overreacted.
I fake a smile as if unrattled, and I flick through the rest of the images on autopilot. I don’t want to know anymore.
I want to get the hell out of here because I’m pathetic, and he’s nothing but a fucking asshole.
I gave him time to sort himself out, and I thought that maybe his heart was broken, too—that maybe he was coming back for me.
What a joke.
I hand the photos back and stand. “I have to go.”
“Oh.” Phyllis’ face falls. “You sure you don’t want to stay the night, love?”
“I can’t.” I smile as I walk toward the door. “I’m sorry.” I hug Neil. “Thanks for today.” I close my eyes as I hug him really tightly. I know that this will be my last hug with Neil. I’m never coming back here.
I’m not giving Nathan Mercer one more fucking tear.
I give Phyllis a hug, and my eyes well with tears. It sucks that I have to lose these two people, too. “Okay.” I quickly brush past them to get outside. “Goodbye!” I call as I walk to the car.
I don’t want them to see my face. I don’t want them to know that I know.
I get in the car and start the engine with a rev as I fake a smile and wave. I put the car into reverse, and without looking back, I drive out of the driveway and out of Nathan Mercer’s life.
I’m fucking done.
* * *
It’s Tuesday and my finger hovers over the name:
Henry Morgan
It’s time. I need to move on. And I know just how to do it. I dial his number.
