3: 3
When I got home, my phone pushed a "People you may know" suggestion.
My finger tapped the profile picture before I even thought about it.
It was Paulette Whitney.
I scrolled down, post after post,
and every one of them was about Asher.
I opened a text post. It read:
"Went hiking with my Ashy today. He saw a pretty girl and completely froze up, so I dared him to go talk to her. And this idiot actually did it!"
"So annoyed. Ashy told me he's into that girl, the one named Josie Locke! What's so great about her? One look and you can tell she's a total fake."
"At least Ashy listens to me on everything. I deliberately taught him how to chase her—had him show up at her place in the middle of the night with late-night food so he could get close to her, hehe~"
"I also found out this Josie girl is allergic to roses, so I told him to give her roses on purpose. Can you believe she actually took them? Shameless. She just wants my Ashy because he's good-looking, from a good family, young and already pulling in a few million a year. A man that impressive—how could some little blogger ever deserve him?"
"They want to move in together? No way. I made sure he moved into Josie's little apartment instead, because the only person who gets to sleep in the bed at Ashy's big place is me! Josie thinks she's moving in there? Not a chance."
...
I kept scrolling,
and there in the comments was a reply from Asher: "Naughty little troublemaker, you're too cute when you're bad!"
Paulette had replied: love-you.jpg
My hands shook as I read to the end,
every word making it harder to breathe.
Those roses I'd carried inside while breaking out in red welts
drove straight back into my chest in that moment.
Someone else in the comments had said: "This Josie girl seems kind of innocent, though."
Paulette had shot back: "Innocent my ass! Ashy and I have known each other for twenty-eight years. She's just some homewrecker who showed up out of nowhere!"
Before I got together with Asher, I made a point of asking about his relationship with Paulette.
He kept insisting, over and over, that she was just a neighbor he'd grown up with.
That if there'd been anything between them, he wouldn't have had Paulette helping him chase another girl.
I believed him.
But for the five years after that, Paulette was always there, right between us.
Everywhere.
I turned off my phone, packed up every last one of Asher's things in one go, and dumped them at the entryway.
I'd just finished when he walked in.
He saw the luggage piled by the door, and a flicker of panic crossed his face before it settled back into the same tired look he always wore.
"Upset again? I'll ask Paulette in a bit, see how we're supposed to smooth things over with you this time."
I looked at him coldly and said, meaning every word,
"Don't bother. We're breaking up. Please take your things and go."
He pinched the bridge of his nose to keep his temper down and pulled a bouquet of roses out from behind his back.
"Stop it. I bought these especially for you."
One touch of roses and I break out in a rash all over.
He knew. He'd seen it. He'd just never cared.
Back when an onion made Paulette's eyes water, Asher fussed over it endlessly and made sure onions never came near her again.
"Give them to Paulette."
I shoved the bouquet away hard.
Asher frowned, his anger finally boiling over.
"What does this have to do with Paulette?"
"Even when you're being unreasonable, Paulette and I have gone out of our way to keep you happy. I honestly don't know what else you could possibly want."
The words had barely left his mouth when his phone rang.
Paulette's voice came through from the other end:
"Ashy, is Josie making a fuss about breaking up with you? Come over to my place. I'll teach you a few tricks—they'll come in handy for handling women later on."
He hung up, picked up his car keys, and said to me, flat and cold,
"Something's come up with Paulette. I'm going over. You take some time and calm down."
"When I get back, we'll talk about the wedding."
The moment he left, I threw the roses out the door.
I sat down and checked my flight. The day it took off was the exact day of our wedding.
