Page 12 of Faking It at Sea

Hey, gorgeous.

What are you up to tonight?

Can we talk?

I miss you.

Are you there?

Will you please message me back?

I still love you.

The messages spanned the course of an hour, with the last one coming in just a few minutes earlier.

“Nope. Not happening,” I said. “I’m blocking him.”

“Wait!” Missy cried, snatching the phone out of my hand. “He just wants to talk.”

“No, the idiot is feeling sorry for himself because now he’s realizing how badly he screwed up by losing you.” I took the phone back. “Do not give him the time of day, Missy.”

She turned toward me and curled her long legs beneath her. “But I miss him.”

“Do you though?”

Her hazel eyes narrowed in a glare. She opened her mouth, but I held up a finger.

“Really think about it. How many nights did he come home late? Or not at all? How many dates did he cancel? And how many times did he gaslight you when you questioned him about where he’d been?”

She wrinkled her nose but didn’t say a word.

“The divorce is final. You have no shared assets, no kids tying the two of you together?—”

“I want kids,” she blurted, yanking her head up. “He knows that, too, but he kept saying he wasn’t ready.”

“And why do you think he wasn’t ready?”

“Because he’s a dishonest, manipulative dickface.”

I tried to swallow my chuckle and only partially succeeded. “Exactly.”

She held out her hand and made a gimme motion.

I held her phone just out of reach. “Only if you promise to block him.”

“Oh, I’ll block the fucker, right after I give him a piece of my mind.”

I shook my head. As much as I’d rather see her feisty than mopey, that wasn’t a good idea either. “If you’re really done with him, don’t respond. Sending anything back, no matter how cutting, will only show him that he can still get to you.”

She growled a curse under her breath. “You know I hate it when you use logic and reason against me.”

“I’m trying to help,” I soothed.

Missy let out a tired sigh before leaning over and resting her head on my shoulder. “I know.”

“If you want your phone, I’ll give?—”

She shook her head. “Hold onto it for me? Just for tonight? I don’t trust myself to not message him back.”

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