Page 56 of Enigma: The Final Chapter
Brunch was a raving success with every scrumptious goodie baked by Harlow devoured with numerous servings of coffee and bucket loads of conversation. Jenni and I are in the kitchen swapping contact information while the boys play pool in the den. Jasper is fast asleep in his stroller as adorable as ever.
“What’s your Facebook name under?” Jenni queries, her brow scrunching. “I looked up both Isabelle Brahn and Izzy Brahn, but neither were coming up.”
I place the empty cardboard boxes from Harlow’s bakery into the bin before spinning around to face her. “I don’t have Facebook.”
She stares at me like I have two heads. “How do younothave Facebook?”
I shrug. “My uncle wasn’t computer savvy. He relied more on notes to keep a record of his case files, so I never got into the whole Facebook, Twitter, dating sites craze.”
Jenni thrusts her hand out, palm side up. “Give me your phone, I’ll hook you up.”
Smiling, I dig out the brand new iPhone Isaac gifted me this morning.
Within five minutes, my Facebook profile is set up—hideous profile picture and all. I grin when I glance down at the screen to discover I have one friend, Jenni. Over the next fifteen minutes, she gives me a rundown on how everything works, including sending friend requests, writing updates on my wall, and private messaging. By the time she finishes explaining everything, I feel like an elderly lady instead of the twenty-five-year-old woman I am.
“You’ll get the hang of it,” she assures upon spotting my mortified expression.
Several hours later, long after Jenni, Nick, Jasper, and Harrison have left, I'm scrolling through my Facebook wall. I now have four friends—Jenni, Hugo, Harlow, and Brandon.
“How come you haven’t accepted my friend request?”
Isaac stops strolling into the living area to peer up at me. “Because I have a marketing person who looks after all my social media sites.”
“Well, tell him or her to accept my friend request.” I crawl across the couch and snuggle into his side. “I can’t add a relationship status without someone to tag it with.”
“Yes, you can.” He removes the phone from my hand, fumbles his fingers over the screen, then hands it back to me. “See?”
My mouth gapes, not just because he’s tech-savvy, but because of the relationship status he put down. “We’re not married.”
“Yet,” he retorts with a smug look on his face.
I rib him with my elbow before scrolling down my wall of updates with him peering over my shoulder like a creeper not cool enough to have a social media account—pretty much me three hours ago.
“Who’s the blonde with Brandon?” Isaac asks a short time later.
I crank my neck back to peer at him. “That’s Melody, Brandon’s high school sweetheart.”
His lips purse before he takes another sip of his wine he returned from the kitchen with. He looks smugger now than he did when he switched my relationship status to married.
After awarding him a frisky wink, I continue scrolling. A lot of my ‘updates’ are old news since I don’t have many friends.
Not even five seconds later, my heart stops beating at the exact moment Isaac stiffens. I swallow harshly, eradicating a large lump in my throat before re-cranking my neck. Isaac’s jaw is set in a straight line, and he’s staring out into the distance.
My pulse rings in my ears as I lower my eyes back to my phone. A girl in a picture with Jenni is the spitting image of Ophelia in every way—same rich, brown hair with honeycomb highlights, tanned skin, light brown nearly translucent eyes. She even has the same turned-up nose.
Tears burn my eyes as panic plagues me. I can’t compete with Ophelia as a ghost, much less if she’s alive.
“She isn’t Ophelia,” Isaac informs me, his tone grim and flat.
Abruptly, he stands and walks out of the living room. After brushing away rogue tears on my cheeks, I take off after him. I find him ten minutes later in the master suite peering out an arched window. A glass of whiskey is in his hand, and his posture alludes to his anguish.
My hesitant steps toward him halt when he mutters, “I know she isn’t Ophelia because I made sure of it.” Pain stabs my chest when he spins around to face me. His eyes are dark as memories from his past haunt him. “Her name is Emily. She's Jenni’s best friend. When I first met her, I was just like you, convinced she was Ophelia. Her face, her eyes…identical.”
My heart shreds to pieces from the hurt in his eyes. I'd give anything for Ophelia to be alive, not just because Isaac loved her, but so the guilt of her death could stop eating him alive.
“Emily is only twenty, which means she was eighteen when we met, almost the same age Ophelia was when we began dating, so, understandably, I was mistaken. But when I look at Emily, all I see is Ophelia, even knowing she isn’t her.”
“That’s understandable, Isaac. Their similarities are uncanny.”
