Page 73 of Twist of Fate
I point to it. “It’s probably geotagged with the hotel’s location.”
“God, he told me on the phone last night that he had been tracking my phone since we broke up.”
“He what?” A little Instagram stalking is one thing. But when he also happens to be tracking her and sending her flowers?
No.That’s just a hard no.
“Hand over your phone,” I demand, and the fact that she complies—trusting me without a moment’s doubt—fills my throat with emotion.
“What are you going to do?” She leans in as I begin adjusting her settings.
“First, I’m going to turn off location sharing so that gobshite can’t see where you are. This should also disable the geotags on Instagram since I turned it off for all your apps.” I finish doing this and then open her camera. She raises an eyebrow. “Now, you’re going to take a pic with your hot tour guide, post it, and get some much-needed revenge.”
She stares at me for a moment before a dazzling smile spreads across her face. Fucking stunning. “Okay, but wait a minute.” She reaches for the bouquet and plucks one of the roses out of the vase.”You don’t happen to have scissors, do you?”
I reach into my pocket and pull out my utility knife—something I always keep with me when I’m on the road. She hands me the rose, and I trim most of the stem off before stowing the knife away. I think I know what she intends to do with the rose, so I lean forward and gently tuck the hair off her shoulder with my fingers. She remains silent as I secure the tiny tendrils behind her ear, finishing with the rose. “Beautiful and diabolical,” I say with a meaningful grin.
“Well, you know what they say about a woman scorned?”
“No, what do they say?” I grab her phone and tilt it toward us.
She bites her lip before breaking into laughter. “I don’t actually remember.”
I snap the photo, and she grabs the phone to look at it. Glancing over her shoulder, I see it clear as day. Her head is tilted back, mid-laugh as joy bursts from her lips, and there’s me staring at her like she’s the fucking sun.
Friend. Four-fucking-letter word, indeed.
* * *
Aisling
After Finn helped me dump the unwanted roses and card, I found Mom, and we set out for one last night in Galway. When I asked Finn if he wanted to join us, he declined, saying he needed a night in to rest.
While I was somewhat disappointed by his answer, I was also happy to have a night alone with my mom. Aside from a few hours together in the room at night, we haven’t had much one-on-one time. And after the crazy shit Theo just pulled, I really needed some Mom time.
We wander down to the city center and find a nice pub to eat at. The walls are forest green, covered in black-and-white photos that date back decades. The place is packed, and it takes a few minutes to get seated. As we stand there, I listen to my mom strike up a conversation with a couple from Paris. I just listen and smile, loving how genuinely kind she is.
“It’s good to see you smile again,” my mom says from behind her menu after we’ve been seated.
I almost give a snarky response but choose not to. “It feels like I haven’t had anything to smile about in a long time.” Then I add, “Thank you for making me take this trip, Mom.”
She smiles to herself. “Maybe I can persuade you to come on a few more, then?”
I laugh, taking a sip of my cider. “Let’s not get ahead of ourselves. I still have a few things to figure out when I get back, like a job and a place to live…”
When I left Theo, I moved back in with my mom. It was supposed to be temporary, but here we are, six months later, and I am still there. Also, at the time of our breakup, I had just quit my job because Theo had just started his season in Madrid, and I was supposed to be packing up our apartment and joining him.
Apparently, he couldn’t wait that long.
“I saw the picture you posted.” She sets down her menu.
“Which one?” I feign ignorance.
“He’s very nice,” she says. When I don’t respond, she adds, “And handsome.”
“Mom…”
She throws her hands up and shrugs. “What? I’m just stating facts.”
