Page 83 of The Wrong Heart

Me:Not offended. Just disappointed.

Magnolia:If you’re disappointed, maybe that means you’re yearning for more, too. You feel the same connection I do.

Me:The connection is rooted in what we have right now. I don’t want to shake that up.

Magnolia:Are you afraid you won’t like what you see?

Me:No. I’m afraid I will.

Her silence spans over a few minutes, and I curse myself for saying that shit. Maybe it’s true, though. Maybe I’m worried she’ll be everything I never knew I wanted.

And then I’ll be letting down two women I’ve come to care for.

Magnolia’s response finally pops up.

Magnolia:How about this: I don’t want to infringe on your privacy. I understand your hesitation, and I respect it. So… what if you only saw me? You can keep your camera off. Your identity will still remain a secret.

Me:I can see you, but you can’t see me?

Magnolia:Yes.

The temptation seizes me.

The curiosity.

Leaning back in my rolling chair, I fold my arms across my chest and pivot side to side, my heart thumping with indecision. This would change everything. This would upset our dynamic, and nothing would ever be the same.

But hell,why not?

Why the fuck not?

Hoping I don’t regret this, I send my reply.

Me:Okay.

Magnolia:Really?

Me:Yeah. Set it up.

A few moments later, a link pops up in the message box, causing my insides to spiral. It’s a Google Meet link. I’m pretty fucking terrible with technology, so there’s a chance I might screw this up, but I take the risk and click the link.

Moving out of frame, I tinker with the settings to make damn sure my camera’s off, then I slide back up to the keyboard and inhale a giant breath of courage.

Fuck, I’m nervous.

I don’t know why, but I guess that means I kind of care.

My foot taps against the carpeted floor as I wait for something to happen.

Something happens.

Her camera flickers on, pointing towards a rust-colored wall.

I frown, prickled with a sense of familiarity. It’s an ugly fucking color that I don’t see too often—and I’ve been in a lot of houses.

No. Impossible.

“Can you hear me?”

---