At her house, I make sure she’s situated before leaving. With my hand on the doorknob, I turn and look at her. “Are you in love with me?” I ask her.
“I am, but it’ll fade with time.”
“Tell me not to marry her, Peyton.”
She shakes her head. “I can’t, Noah.”
I nod and let myself out. The cab of my truck smells like her. I keep my windows rolled up so I can breathe her in and remember this one day because I have a feeling it’ll be years until we have another one like it.
When I get back to my parents’, I head into my bedroom and find Dessie’s purse on the bed. I sit next to it, with my hand itching to go through her phone. I shouldn’t, it’s an invasion of privacy, but she must have done it to me, it’s the only way she could get Peyton’s number.
My hand reaches in and pulls it out. I type in the four-digit code used to get into my apartment building. When it doesn’t work, I try another series of numbers finally figuring out she’s used our upcoming wedding date as her passcode.
Her screen comes to life with folders of apps, and the background picture of her and I after one of my games. I press the text app and bring up the window. Searching for Peyton’s name, I read the series of messages she’s sent her. Peyton never responded. They seem harmless at first glance, but they’re anything but.
A message comes in and against my better judgment, I open it. It’s from her best friend, Isa. Immediately my throat tightens and my hand shakes so bad I have to squeeze the phone harder. I scroll up and start reading from the day I left to go to Chicago.
Noah left. The bitch was in a “car accident” of course he went running.
Isa: Maybe she’ll die and you’ll be free
I hope. Peyton this. Peyton that. I’m so over it.
Isa: She’s always going to be a problem. He’s got some perverse attachment to her.
The best friend line is overplayed. And dammit I want my ring
Isa: Has he mentioned it?
I’m tired of waiting. Seriously a year and a half. I don’t know what else to do.
Isa: Trap him
How?
Isa: You said he has daddy issues. Get prego.
Ha. Sex is nonexistent. He’s tired. Traveling. Sore. You name it. Excuses.
He broke up with me. Told me he’s in love with Peyton. She’s a vegetable. He left me.
Isa: I told you what to do.
He won’t buy it.
Isa: Tell him you’re “months” along. He’ll rush into marriage to save his precious little image.
Isa: Did he buy it?
Hook. Line. Sinker.
Isa: When’s the wedding? Invite? MoH?
In his hometown (gag) I have to be nice to his mother (shoot me) Bonus – dad’s hot. Maybe I can do him, get knocked up and no one would know?
Isa: Dad *is* hot. I Googled. 3-some?
I get the seed!