Page 85 of Unmatched

I know I’ve lost every chance I had. And it sounds lame, but if I could do it over, I would. I’d listen about the Pooches, then take you back to bed. Find all the right places on your body to make you reach the stars again. Then sit with you until we figured out how to reach your dreams too.

MountainMan3

Lydia, I can’t imagine my life with anyone but you.

CHAPTER FORTY

My phone pings in my pocket. I barely hear it, busy as I am counting speckles in the Sunny Cove ceiling tiles. It’s an unfamiliar sound. Not a text or email or any notification I can immediately identify. Maybe there’s a weather alert or something. I haven’t been paying attention to spring in Dallas, but I suppose there could be a tornado watch or something. There are shelters in this building, but I’m not sure about moving Mom. I tear my gaze from the ceiling and dig around for my phone.

You have 37 unread messages on Unmatched

My mouth goes dry.

I hover my thumb to open the app, but then I glance at my mother lying in the bed, looking both too young to be there and older than her years. She’s quiet, peaceful, like she’s asleep. The same way she’s looked for days. Even so, I mutter an excuse out loud to leave the room. I’m not opening up a cheating app in the same room with my mom.

I head outside to the walking path in the Sunny Cove gardens.

My inbox is jam-packed. I don’t know what happened. I reactivated my account and sent a bunch of messages to LonelyGirl8 the other day. Out of a mix of sadness and desperation, I guess. It felt more like writing in a journal than something she’d ever see. Didn’t make me feel better, but it did help me sleep. But now, scanning the subject lines and usernames, a tight, familiar feeling creeps into my chest.

There’s a note titled “Let’s have a pool hook up” from SexyMama2. Another from FullFrontalPeaks titled “Hungry for a lunch fuck.” And another that says “I’m your girl” from KinkyWife01. I don’t open any of them. Maybe I should be happy with all the offers for tits and ass, but after everything that’s happened the last few weeks, I can’t help wondering what brought them there. If it’s because they’re sad or hurt. Or maybe looking to hurt someone else.

Ugh. I can’t even see hookups the same anymore.

I keep scrolling, my hopes fading as I make my way down the page, until I see a username that halts everything.

I sink to a bench on the side of the path.

LonelyGirl8

The message line says simply: “No subject.”

I swallow hard. Lydia hasn’t texted or called since I left Denver. I really didn’t expect her to after everything we both said; I couldn’t either. Which is why I wound up back on Unmatched. Staring at a version of her that—I can see now—she clearly made for me. The unlikely last place we managed to reconnect. When staring at her profile wasn’t enough, I started writing.

Never in a million years did I expect her to reply.

But I’d never expected her to be in that hotel room either.

With a shaking hand, I tap open the message.

LonelyGirl8

Hey, sexy. Still looking for fun?

I stare at the chat window for a full minute, wondering if it’s actually my wife. Maybe it’s Caprice, or someone else. Maybe the account was hacked.

I want to say, Is this really you? But that seems too direct. If she wanted a normal conversation, she could have sent a normal message. Or texted me. But she didn’t.

MountainMan3

Yes. Though my last date here didn’t end so well.

The phone pings again right away.

LonelyGirl8

Mine either.

MountainMan3

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