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My hand reaches in and pulls it out. I type in the four-digit code used to get into my apartment building. When it doesn’t work, I try another series of numbers finally figuring out she’s used our upcoming wedding date as her passcode.
Her screen comes to life with folders of apps, and the background picture of her and I after one of my games. I press the text app and bring up the window. Searching for Peyton’s name, I read the series of messages she’s sent her. Peyton never responded. They seem harmless at first glance, but they’re anything but.
A message comes in and against my better judgment, I open it. It’s from her best friend, Isa. Immediately my throat tightens and my hand shakes so bad I have to squeeze the phone harder. I scroll up and start reading from the day I left to go to Chicago.
Noah left. The bitch was in a “car accident” of course he went running.
Isa: Maybe she’ll die and you’ll be free
I hope. Peyton this. Peyton that. I’m so over it.
Isa: She’s always going to be a problem. He’s got some perverse attachment to her.
The best friend line is overplayed. And dammit I want my ring
Isa: Has he mentioned it?
I’m tired of waiting. Seriously a year and a half. I don’t know what else to do.
Isa: Trap him
How?
Isa: You said he has daddy issues. Get prego.
Ha. Sex is nonexistent. He’s tired. Traveling. Sore. You name it. Excuses.
He broke up with me. Told me he’s in love with Peyton. She’s a vegetable. He left me.
Isa: I told you what to do.
He won’t buy it.
Isa: Tell him you’re “months” along. He’ll rush into marriage to save his precious little image.
Isa: Did he buy it?
Hook. Line. Sinker.
Isa: When’s the wedding? Invite? MoH?
In his hometown (gag) I have to be nice to his mother (shoot me) Bonus – dad’s hot. Maybe I can do him, get knocked up and no one would know?
Isa: Dad *is* hot. I Googled. 3-some?
I get the seed!
As much as I want to stop reading, I can’t. My stomach is in my throat. Tears of anger cloud my vision. She’s destroying my life and for what? Because she doesn’t like Peyton?
I’M PREGNANT
Isa: Noah? The DILF?
Nope. Doesn’t matter. I’m pregnant. And he’s none the wiser.
I swallow hard at the notion she’s cheated on me. I chose her and the baby over my own happiness and she’s been lying this entire time. She wasn’t pregnant in Chicago.
Isa: What are you going to do when Noah finds out you’re only eight weeks along and haven’t slept together in months?
Idk. Haven’t thought about it. Once we’re married, half his money is mine. I’ll deal with it later. Gotta go play nice with the mother-in-law from hell and his bratty sister. Peace.
“What are you doing?”
I look up to find Dessie standing in the doorway. Her face is stoic. No emotion. I clear my throat and half smile at her. “I was reading.”
“On my phone?”
I nod and glance at the device in my hand. I don’t know what to do with it, but somewhere deep in the recess of my brain, I’m being told to keep it. I stand and walk toward her, towering over her. “I’m going to keep this and uh… I really think you should go.”
“We’re getting married in two days.”
Shaking my head, I bite the inside of my cheek. “No, I don’t think we’ll be doing that, Dessie. I really don’t want to make a scene, especially in front of my ‘bratty sister’ so please get your things and leave. When I get back to Portland, you can get the rest of your stuff. By the time I get downstairs after you’ve done that, security will know not to let you in.” I step out of my room and head toward the stairs.
“You left me no choice, Noah.”
I pause and turn to look at her. “You lied to get me away from someone I’m in love with and because that wasn’t enough, you cheated on me. I don’t want to look at you right now. I don’t want you in my house. I don’t want you near my family, especially my father. I don’t want you in my town, near my friends or the people I care about. My mom and Aubrey were right to suspect you, but I didn’t want to believe them. I gave you the benefit of the doubt and you proved me wrong. Get out, Dessie.”
I don’t give her a chance to say anything else. Her sobs are enough to tell me how she’s feeling. Thing is, I don’t know if she’s angry she got caught or truly heartbroken. I suppose there’s a bit of both emotions mixed in there. I order her a car service and wait at the bottom of the stairs for her to leave. Once the front door slams, I lose it.
