Page 63 of Your Coffin or Mine
Me:
Who?
Dots go across the screen seemingly forever and I growl in frustration. Stupid slow internet.
Burnie:
Chad! It’s not looking so hot out there my dude. Hmu when u can
I look down at the screen shot she has sent me and can’t help but grin, before reality sets in that this is what the world is looking at.Shit.
I’m wearing a sequin bikini in it, tits almost on display, in the middle of a keg stand with two dudes holding my ankles. Not my best moment, but what never fails to make me grin is Bernadette below me, with her tongue hanging from her mouth in one corner of the photo, excitement bleeding from her eyes. My only excuse is we were three drinks in when I agreed to do the kegstand. It was a cool memory we talk about sometimes and laugh over, but Chad just made it ugly.
Two comments are captured in the screenshot.
One says, “OMG Chad are you #single? Pick me,” and the other says, “Always knew she was a slut #youcandobetter.”
Ugh, of all the petty things, this is what he chooses?
It’s rare that Burnie and I go out at all, and he grabs the one photo that looks inappropriate. This was taken right after Chad had gone to jail for the first time, and I can remember just wanting to drink and have a good time—feel normal for once when life felt upended.
I stare at the photo and waves of anger pour over me. Anger that he would do this, anger that he would reduce me to this. Years of me taking care of him, through all the binges, the partying, handling his bills, appointments,everything, and he would show this to the world?
“Why is he such an asshole?”
He has been in jail three times for drunken conduct, and twice for drinking and driving. There is no way I don’t have some shit that will ruin him worse than he has me.
I click on my photos, speeding past the recent ones of Vlad and me, not wanting to see his face right before I have to find some disgusting photo of Chad.I will murder him via social media and make him crawl into some cave and then shit on his cave!
My brow furrows when I remember I never once took a photo of him behaving badly, and I always demanded for anyone who did to delete it. In reality, I asked each person nicely, my embarrassment motivator enough for them to take pity on me, which they always did. But it means I have fuck all for my split-second toxic photo revenge idea.
Stomach rolling with sadness and nausea, I slump against the chair cushions, tossing my phone beside me.
All it takes is one video to go viral with that kind of content and everything I have worked for is gone.Why would he do this?But I know why. He has never cared about what kind of publicity we would get, just that we got some.
I have talked to him about this in the past; this is basically my one fear come to life, and he knows it.That’s why.He knows the social media idea was just a starting point for me.
But this . . . this could end it all.
After college, social media really kicked off, and I thought, why not? What I wasn’t expecting was how quickly my page would grow, then grow again after Chad decided to help me. Not that being a social media influencer doesn’t have some perks, but the tide can turn oh so swiftly.
I have a healthy stash of funds I have been building up with small investments, but the little wedding fund I am currently tapping into won’t last forever.
It will be okay.Even if I have to quit social media altogether, I will find another way to travel the world. I can totally work and travel, just not at the same time.
Me:
Thanks for the heads up.
Standing up, I rotate my shoulders and shake myself out, trying to let go of my anxiety over it all. Deep breaths. A scraping sound I recognize reaches my ears—the huge front doors are always loud when opened. Probably the guests Doyle was talking about.
I head toward the grand staircase that overlooks the foyer, but frown as soon as I peer over the railing. Vlad has a beautiful blonde woman on his arm who is staring up at him like he invented calorie deficits. My stomach flips with nausea when I notice a rose in her hand, the same color as the one I’m holding.
So much for it being special. My stomach drops at the sight, and irrational jealousy floods throughout my being.
“What do you mean, you walked here?” Vlad murmurs down at her, the sound carrying.
She giggles and I have this weird urge to go down there and rip her hair out. The entire drive is on a sharp incline uphill. She is so full of shit. I take in her Jimmy Choo pumps and handbag, and roll my eyes. Walked here, my ass.
