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“You really think this is him?” Aleks asks cautiously.
“This has Irish scum written all over it.”
Stroking his thin beard, he muses, “It does. Just seems pretty stupid to come at you now, is all I’m saying. Everyone and their mother knows you’re hitching our wagon to the Zanettis. We’re untouchable once that happens.”
“Bee and I aren’t married yet. He’s trying to hit now before I gain more power. He’s playing the long game.”
“It’s not gonna work,” Aleks says confidently.
“Damn right it won’t. That leprechaun fuck took Elena from me. He’s not going to get anywhere near Wren or my son.” I unleash my right hook into the stone, feeling the satisfying crunch of skin splitting and hot blood flowing past my knuckles. “I’ll make sure of that.”
13
WREN
SYRAH: update: he was so not worth the Brazilian.
I snort with laughter and check the time. 10:00 P.M. I’m usually asleep by now, but my body’s hopped up on sugar and restlessness.
WREN: finished with your date already, huh?
SYRAH: the highlight of the night was the espresso martini I had at dinner. i shouldve had a few more. might have helped keep me awake during the sex.
WREN: oof. that bad?
SYRAH: im considering drawing a map to my clit with turn-by-turn instructions next time. maybe that’ll help.
WREN: your poor vagina. when will the suffering end?
SYRAH: if you find out, let me know. hey btw, im passing your neck of the woods in a bit. wanna grab a drink with me? end the night right?
Blech. I hate lying to Syrah. Especially because she’s been such a godsend this past week. She’s filled my life with hilarious IG reels, silly memes, and a whole bunch of random links that have kept me distracted through the torturously long days.
But every time I even consider telling her what’s actually going on, I imagine all the follow-up questions she’ll ask, and I decide that maybe silence is better.
WREN: id love to but I can’t.
SYRAH: youre still sick?! i thought you said you were feeling better this morning?
WREN: i was. im just tired really. kinda wanna stay in and rest
SYRAH: kk that’s no problem. I’ll grab a bottle of wine and drop in at yours for a bit. i can give you all the details about the penis that took a left turn at Albuquerque :D
It’s pathetic how much I want to hear about her date, albeit maybe not in so much anatomical detail as she might prefer. But how the hell do I explain to her that I’m not home?
WREN: i do wanna hang out but I think im gonna turn in soon
SYRAH: youre really starting to worry me, boo. should I come with you to the doctors next time? clearly whatever he’s giving you isn’t working.
Her concern makes me feel like even more of a schmuck. I’ve got only one friend in the world; why should I be scared of telling her the truth? Or at least part of the truth?
We can only do this song and dance for so long. So, with a sigh, I decide that now’s the moment the music stops.
WREN: actually, the doctor said that the bug i caught will exit my body in about seven and a half months.
It’s agony waiting for her dancing three dots to disappear and the text to arrive.
SYRAH: Wait. Are you telling me what I think you’re telling me!!?!??
