Page 93 of Catfish

He’s right, it does suck.

But the feeling is beyond mutual.

How sad is it that I’ve never met this man and he somehow made a mark in my life?

I only spoke to him for not even two weeks. Our longest conversation was three hours, and there weren't any mind-blowing secrets that he and I spilled.

I’m starting to strongly believe just how pathetic and soft I’ve become since being with Grant. Every year that passes reminds me how much of a back-stabbing bitch I was, and am. The other day keeps flashing in my mind—more like the words. Grant knew how they would affect me. That it would hit me harder than anything that he would have done himself.

Jed’s getting married.

And the dickhead wants me to plan the wedding. Honestly, don’t know why he wasted his time coming to my office. He had to have known the answer to that question was going to be hell no.

I don’t think I ever got over Jed. I don’t think I ever wanted to let him go because what we had was real to me. It was as real as my relationship with Marty and Mama. He was someone that was always there for me, no matter how stupid or trivial my problems may have seemed.

And I repayed him by fucking his brother.

Chase was the only other male I’ve let into my life without feeling so guarded. Then he told me to fuck off, which, honestly, is karma at its best.

Still doesn’t mean I’m not pissed about it.

Flicking my gaze back to his text, I contemplate my words.

Should I act cool and collected?

Should I ask him what happened and if he’s okay?

Well, none of those apply because I went with the classic Reagan Shelton response.

Me: Was I supposed to give a fuck?

Taking another tug of my beer, I wait for his next message to come through. Except it doesn't come right away, more like ten minutes later, and my annoyance is already at a new high.

Chase: Not sure exactly.

Me: Took you ten minutes to figure that out?

Chase: But who's counting, huh, Sox?

Me: I’m counting two more minutes to get to what you want to say before I block your number.

Chase: I’d say you miss me too.

Me: Always knew you were that asshole.

Chase: Never changed.

Me: Did you forget some crucial life-altering detail you needed to tell me, or are you good for the next two weeks?

Chase: Again, who’s counting?

Me: Take care, Chase.

Chase: What’s wrong with just missing you and our conversations? Line wasn’t good enough?

Me: It blew balls.

Chase: How about I miss our bets, and the Yankees won last night.

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