Page 9 of Lucy and Her Wicked Three

"You don't think those pictures aren't completely damning?"

"I don't know, Lu… it just seems crazy. That man is insane over you. And Delaney? We all know she wants what you have, no matter what it is. She's been trying to nail Mateo since you two met."

"What?"

She nods. "Yep. We all knew. She hits on him constantly, if you get up and go to the bathroom or your attention's turned away. But Mateo can't stand her. It's obvious."

"But what if it's real, Portia," I whisper. Every day, people like me who believe they're in a loving relationship get cheated on.

"If it's real… then you'll deal with it. 'Cause you're a badass bitch. You'reLucy. You radiate sunshine out of your ass. You'll figure it out. In the meantime, though, I think you should call him. Get his side."

I shake my head. "I don't know how I can talk to him right now. I feel like I'm fallin' apart," I cry, Portia pulling me in for another hug.

"Wait, how did you know? Who sent you the pictures?"

She grimaces. Pulling out her phone, she hands it over, and explains that someone sent them all links to a gossip account with tons of tags and reposts from hundreds of accounts and followers.

I stop scrolling when I see my name. Just below are the pictures. Delaney and Mateo. My hands shake, a burning in my chest takes hold, but I force myself to read the caption.

According to the anonymous poster, a friend of Delaney's claims she knew all along that Delaney and Mateo were together, but I was the one in the way, the third wheel. Delaney reportedly feels terrible about the pictures but won't further comment.

"How in the hell did this happen so fast? When did you get the pics?" Portia asks, looking over my shoulder.

"Last night."

"Well, Delaney's out to get you, 'cause this shit is already tagged like, a lot. Which means it's been circulating probably since last night. I honestly can't believe I'm only just hearing about it. This claims Delaney made a quote yesterday… shit, she was acting so normal at brunch this morning."

Her phone rings in my hand, and I shriek, "It's Mateo! What do I do?"

"I don't know!" Portia throws her hands up.

When Mateo's incoming call fades, the pictures on the account reemerge. His face is clear as day—one of him walking next to Delaney in broad daylight, coming out of her apartment. In the other two, they're having sex. It looked like she set up the camera, but there was no way to know if he was aware his picture was being taken, something he told me he hated.

"You okay?" Portia asks kindly.

My anxiety faded while we've been talking, leaving an empty sadness in its wake. "I'm…" I look around the busy street, willing the words to appear. I'm sick of lying. Pretending to have my shit together. "I'm not okay." I quickly wipe my eyes, tears on the verge of spilling over.

She winces, but it's okay. I know how pathetic I sound. Mateo cheated on me, and because I'm semi-famous, there are pictures to prove it, pictures that people are sharing as entertainment.

"These pictures prove nothing. I know it sounds crazy, but… I don't trust Delaney not to make this shit up. You should talk to Mateo."

The phone rings a second time. I give Portia a pleading look. "Will you answer?"

She nods, putting it on speaker.

"Portia? Have you seen Lucy? She's not answering her phone. Is she with you? Do you know where she is? I can't get a hold of her." Hearing his voice nearly breaks me. Deep, raspy, gruff, like he's barely spoken a word aloud to anyone all day. Typically quiet, everything he says is straight and to the point, so his frantic rambling sounds out of place.

"Mateo," Portia hedges. "I just left brunch. She was pretty upset."

"Did she see the pictures?" He asks. Pain lances in my chest when he acknowledges their existence. Like it's evidence that he even knows about them. He's quiet for a second before continuing, "My receptionist just showed me. You know it'sbullshit, right? She knows it's bullshit? Please fucking tell me she knows it's bullshit."

Oh, how I want to believe him.

"They're pretty convincing pictures." I know Portia's only playing devil's advocate, but it still hurts to hear.

"I've never fucking cheated on Lucy. Iloveher. Just tell me where she is. She's not answering her phone. I need to talk to her." I can almost picture him pacing in his office, pulling at his hair.

Portia's eyes meet mine, but I shake my head slightly.

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