Page 69 of My Sweet Dollie, You Have to Love Me
“Don’t say that.” I blink, and a tear falls.
He ignores me and my feelings and walks away, leaving me hurt by his words because, despite the fear, I still love my mom and dad. I miss them terribly.
But I don’t dare look back into that bathroom to catch another glimpse of them. They shouldn’t be here. They shouldbe resting… peacefully. With that thought fresh, I rush to the refrigerator, scanning the herbs quickly for sage.
For a second, I feel the fear that this morning’s blessing claimed it all, but apparently, it’s just crushed and hiding beneath a soda bottle.
I light it on fire with a light from the stove, shaking it around the room.
No noise exits the bathroom, aside from the heavy urination Shane does after each nap.
Sinking into a seat at the breakfast table, I pull out Shane’s phone again.
I skim the photos of other women, and my brain begins comparing us as I sit and wonder why he feels the need to look at them when he’s got me.
I don’t even hear the chain flush.
The first thing I hear over all the sneers in my head, some for me, some for every other woman, most for Shane, is him choking on the smoke around me.
“You found it.” Shane appears on the other side of the table, hand out, expecting his phone. He chokes again.
“For fuck’s sake. Give me that!” He grabs the sprig from my hand and runs it under the faucet, dousing the flame.
“How long?”
“Did I nap? Wouldn’t you know that?” His tone is sharp.
“We were planning a wedding.”
“Gee, Lancie, it was just a nap. You had to paint anyway.”
“How long have you been cheating on me?”
His body snaps straight, and his usual snail-pace is gone as he twists from the sink, dives across the table, and snatches his phone from my hand.
“I don’t know what you think you saw, but it’s not what you think.” His fingers move rapidly across the screen. He keeps his eyes angled there, too, eager to avoid my questions.
“I saw everything.”
With the sage no longer in my hand, my fingers shake against the tabletop. The noise they make agitates me as much as the expression on Shane’s lying face.
“The lists of women in their underwear. All cheap push-up bras and three layers of makeup. You have a type, it seems.”
“I told you, it isn’t what you think.”
“No?” I keep my tone even despite the tears running down my cheeks.
“No, of course not.”
“Then show me and explain.” I tap the chair at my side.
“I’ve deleted every app. You don’t need to worry about it.”
“Then undelete them because I want to see what I just saw, and have you try and explain how it isn’t what I think.”
“I can’t do that.”
“Yes, you can. Go back to your app store and click download.”
