Page 2 of Truly, Madly, Deeply

She raked her fingers through her hair, messing up the curls she’d spent an hour and a quarter of a can of hair spray artfully constructing, earning herself an awful burn on her thumb from her curling iron in the process. “I can’t believe this.”

“You do look kind of pale.” He patted the couch cushion nearest him. “Do you want to sit down?”

His living room smelled faintly of sex, all musk and sweat, and it made her stomach roll. “I don’t have time for this.”

In forty minutes she was due across town, guest starring on the fifth most popular podcast on Spotify. Unhinged offered listeners a blend of advice and lifestyle content, often irreverent but always real. Booking the podcast was a pinch me moment if there ever was one, only this dream opportunity now felt more like a nightmare because Truly? Truly wasn’t just promoting her next book; as a self-professed romantic, and because she was such an expert, she had agreed to give relationship advice to Unhinged’s four million listeners.

She’d laugh at the irony if it didn’t make her want to cry.

“True, don’t be like that.” He followed her into the kitchen. “You know how much I hate it when you’re passive-aggressive and shit.”

She studied her keychain, trying to figure out the best way to get his key off it. “Honestly, Justin, what exactly is the proper response to walking in on your fiancé cheating on you? Would you rather I be aggressive-aggressive? Hm? Hm?”

“I resent that accusation.”

Accusation? She scoffed, fighting with her metal O-ring keychain, trying to pry it apart with grip strength and sheer force of will. “I literally walked in on you with your dick in another girl’s mouth. Where I come from, we call that cheating.”

“Except we are on a break.” He spoke slowly, as if she were the one struggling to grasp the gravity of this whole fucked-up situation. “And even if we weren’t, it’s, like, ethical non-monogamy.”

She stared at him. “Are you shitting me?”

“I’m just saying.” Justin shrugged. “You should look it up. Ethical non-monogamy.”

“You think I should look it up? I think you should go fuck yourself.”

He sighed. “Don’t be like that.”

“Like what? Like someone with standards? Self-respect?”

“Come on,” he said. “We can fix this.”

In theory, sure. Couples had persevered through much worse and plenty had come out the other side stronger than ever.

Except those couples all had one thing in common.

They all wanted to fix it.

And Truly?

Truly didn’t.

Had anyone asked her this morning if she loved Justin, she’d have sworn she did. It was unequivocal. The sky was blue, the grass was green, and she, Truly Livingston, was going to spend the rest of her life with Justin Gallagher.

But now? She’d rather eat a bowl of her own hair than let Justin touch her. Maybe the slide from adoration to mounting frustration to outright vexation had been gradual, but the realization that she didn’t care enough to try anymore was like flipping a switch.

Finally, Justin’s key came free from her keychain. It must’ve only weighed a few ounces, but slapping it down on the counter felt like shedding pounds of dead weight. “Have a nice life, Justin.”

She turned on her heel and made a beeline for the door, shoving her feet inside her sneakers, not caring that the tongues were tucked awkwardly inside.

Justin caught up to her in the hall. The dish towel clutched against his crotch afforded him a shred of modesty. He held up her old key.

“Who’s gonna feed my betta fish?”

***

“Second circle of Hell, this is Lulu speaking.”

“Aw, shucks. I figured they’d have promoted you by now.”

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