Page 11 of You Will Never Be Me

I jerk up from my seat so sharply that my fork and knife clatter on my plate. “Sorry,” I say in a hushed voice. “Just gonna—just—bathroom.” I hurry out of there before the tears come.

Once I’m in the bathroom, I lean on the counter and focus on my breathing. I can hear cutlery clanging from the dining room, though no one is talking. The twins are old enough to know that Mommy and Daddy just had a fight. I can’t believe Ben said that to me. He didn’t pull any punches, just went straight for the jugular. He of all people knows how much space Mer takes up in my life—how much it had ripped me apart when we had that fight. He knows how much I’ve missed her, the numerous sleepless nights I’ve spent, my thoughts whirling around the giant hole in my heart.

Tears scald my cheeks.What am I crying over? My utter shambles of a marriage or my ruined friendship?I can’t ignore the feeling that neither is salvageable. The problem with Mer and Ben is that they both loved me only when I was a naive girl with starsand sweet inexperience in my eyes, and a pure innocent willingness to drink in their every word of advice like it was scripture. As soon as I outgrew them, their kindness and generosity sharpened into jealousy. Each time I dared to share any piece of advice I had learned along the way with them, I was quickly smacked down, reminded that my place isn’t above or even beside them. I entered their lives as a follower, and a follower I must stay.

I turn on the tap and splash cold water onto my face. I need to get ahold of myself. I take out my phone and open up my socials. As sad as it sounds, scrolling through my profiles is my favorite pastime. They’re a reminder of why I’m doing all of this—why I need to keep posting religiously. I put my favorite filters over this evening’s photos and post them to my Stories. The Likes come in almost immediately; many of my followers have added me to their notifications list. I already know which ones will usually be the first to hit Like. I lean against the counter and scroll as the comments stream in.

Grittmecommented: Omg looks perfect!

And0pcommented:@heartsandcraftslook how good that chicken looks!

tDahircommented: Ahh your family is srsly SO LUCKY

The outpouring of love is a balm to my soul. It sparks real joy, at least momentarily. A high I’m always chasing.

Gissssssellecommented: Lol I bet that chicken is dry as shit@fandomgurl

The high ends abruptly.

Fandomgurlreplied:@GisssssselleSRSLY right? The sprouts look burned too. Like plastic@Bonnie126376

Bonnie126376replied:@FandomgurlOh this fakeass bitch and her nasty-looking meals again, FFS someone teach her how to cook. Can’t believe she’s making her fam choke down this garbage day after day

It takes all of my willpower not to throw my phone across the bathroom. I close the post and open another one that I’d posted earlier in the day: a Reel of me making low-carb keto bagels, which ends with Noemie biting into one with a huge grin. I’d captioned it, “Guys, I can’t believe how amazing these low-carb, low-sugar bagels turned out! Noemie LOVES them, so happy that we’re not letting #diabetes get in the way of her living life to the fullest! #LowCarb #LowCarbBagels #DiabetesAwareness.”

The top comments make me gasp out loud.

Fandomgurlcommented: Low carb CARBS isn’t a thing, you dumb bitch@ninamoonlook at this stupid bitch

Ninamoonreplied:@FandomgurlWHATTT? “Low carb” bagels, is she high?? LMAO

Teslalovecommented: Making your diabetic kid eat carbs for Likes, this is literally child abuse

I shut down Instagram, but my hands can’t stop shaking, and my chest feels like it’s being squeezed like a tube of toothpaste. After making myself take several deep breaths, I compose a text to my assistant.

Aspen:Hi Liv, I just checked my Insta and was disappointed to see that there are still a lot of troll comments being made. We’ve been over this before; part of your responsibilities is making sure to delete troll comments before their presence encourages more trolls to join in. Please delete all troll comments immediately, otherwise we will have to reconsider your position as my assistant.

I read the message twice over. I have to make sure I don’t sound like a huge bitch, because there’s always the chance that Liv might screenshot it and post it for clout. After some hesitation, I delete it, then type out a new message.

Aspen:Hi Liv, I’m concerned about a few things. Let’s schedule a call tomorrow morning at 9am? Thx. xo

There. Firm, but friendly. The reply comes in almost instantaneously.

Liv:Yes, totally! Maybe I can come over to your place?

Aspen:We can do it remotely. I’ll call you then.

Liv:Ok, talk to you then!

I sigh and try to release some of the tension from my neck and shoulders. I close the chat app. Then open it again. I scroll down until I find Meredith’s name, but stop myself from sending her yet another text. I know she’s not going to reply. I can’t keep sending her texts.

Instead, I scroll through the dozens of new messages that I get every day. They’re all from different people—my mom, the dozens of influencers that I’ve gotten to know over the years, only one or two of whom I would consider actual friends. Then I come across an unread message that makes me stop scrolling. As much as I want to ignore it, I know I can’t afford to.

Clara:Has Mer said anything to you??

Aspen:No:(

Clara:I can’t believe her. I mean, I always knew she’s brash, but this is just ridiculous

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