Page 65 of My Sweet Dollie, You Have to Love Me
This could be it!
A fantasy trails behind in my mind of me in a puffy princess dress, the palest pink and glittering as the sun kisses it through floor-to-ceiling windows.
Shane, in a black suit, his smile boyish and the tears in his eyes, adorable. He stretches out his hand to me and?—
Buzz.
The damn phone interrupts my reverie, but all the excitement is left behind.
Setting my paintbrush carefully along the paint can, I brush my hands down the giant sweatshirt I wear and creep across to the phone. With each step, I’m careful to avoid the crystals I still have scattered around the room from this morning’s blessing.
Shane gave in and took me to get them before we started working on the decorating. And by we, I mean me. But that’s fine. He took me for the crystals, I’ll happily paint alone in exchange.
The smile on my face is wide and growing as I pick up the phone that is always placed screen down and swipe to unlock it.
Four messages and six notifications from an app I don’t recognize sit on the screensaver of me. Excitement leads me to click into his message app, ignoring whatever game he has in the background and all its update requests.
One conversation is marked as unread.
The lady’s name is Olive.
Fast fingers open the message before my eyes scan the snippet on display.
Slowly, my jaw lowers, heavy with shock. My eyes widen, and tears sting them.
The phone moves in my blurred vision, and it’s only then that I realize I’m shaking.
Shane still sleeps on the sofa while I stand at his side. The pounding of my heart blasting against my ribcage hasn’t disturbed him.
I blink down at my hands, expecting the messages to read differently when I open my eyes again. But the painful truth is still there, laughing in the face of my ten-year relationship.
My lips seal, like that will keep the pain inside of me.
It doesn’t, and I can’t be here, in this room with him.
A step back places my foot on what must be my sharpest crystal.
I wince and hop away as the crystal tumbles.
With my blood soaking through my sock and my foot in one hand, and Shane’s phone in the other, I stay silent as he stirs.
Please, don’t wake up yet.
When he doesn’t open his eyes, silent steps avoid any more crystals as I edge to the back of the house. I check every corner for shadows, but in the natural daylight, I’m alone.
The crack in the kitchen window taunts me, but I ignore it, skulking around the corner into the bathroom.
I push the lock into place. It’s old and probably won’t keep anyone actually out if they try the door. So, I sink to the floor and sit against it.
Unlocking the phone again, I flick back to the start of the conversation between Shane and Olive.
A cold tear rolls from my eye.
Shane:
I thought this might be easier to chat on than the app.
Olive:
