Tomorrow, I’ll start getting more creative. I was creative three days ago with the nail polish and my copy. Nice start, but I’m a photographer, not a writer. That’s where I can shine.
I glance down at my computer screen.
The flight attendants come around with drinks and pretzels. I take a bottle of water but forgo the carbs. I’ll be carbing it up big-time at home. My mom’s an award-winning baker. Her pies are legendary at the county fair each year.
I put away my laptop and check my Instagram posts from the past couple days.
Oh… I have a private message from @realaddisonames.
My gut churns. I knew she was lurking somewhere.
I can delete it without looking at it. Would probably be for the best. Who needs her negativity?
But I’m a glutton for self-flagellation, it seems. I click to open the message.
Sorry about your bad day, but I tried to warn you.
That’s it.
She knows.
She knows Braden and I are over.
My only consolation is the message came three days after the post in question, which means she’s not checking my feed daily. Is that good? Not necessarily. In her eyes, it means she doesn’t consider me a huge threat to her audience.
And in truth, I’m not. At least not yet.
I sigh. Will she make Braden’s and my breakup public? Probably not. First, she doesn’t have any concrete proof. Second, it wouldn’t look good to her followers for her to be gossiping about another influencer. Besides, her relationship—for lack of a better word—with Braden has never been public. For all she knows, he might have told me everything. Which brings me to the third reason why she won’t share our breakup. To do so would bring attention to her past with Braden—something neither of them has been willing to talk about.
In reality, Braden hasn’t told me anything.
All I know I learned from Betsy.
But Betsy said he broke up with Addie when she wouldn’t go dark with him again.
Seems he broke up with me for the opposite reason.
Oh? What are your hard limits?
I only have one.
What is it?
I don’t talk about it.
Don’t you think I should know? So I don’t bring it up?
Trust me, Skye. You will never bring it up.
Except I did.
Why is it his hard limit?
Unless…
Breath control. Neck bondage. It must have something to do with Braden and Addison.
My fingers are poised over my keyboard to respond to Addie’s message. Something like, “You’ve got me all choked up.” Surely, she’ll recognize the double entendre.
But I stop.
I’m not Addison. I don’t hurt people simply to make myself feel better.
I take a screen shot of the message and then delete it. Never hurts to keep records.
My plane lands, and I catch a cab home. I didn’t tell my parents I was coming. They’re always asking me to visit, so I figured why not surprise them?
During the sixty-minute cab ride, my phone rings. A Boston number that I don’t recognize. It could be new work, so I answer it.
“This is Skye.”
“Hello, Skye. It’s Ben Black.”
I drop my jaw. “Braden’s brother?”
“The one and only.”
Why is Ben calling me? Not even a week has passed since Braden broke up with me. Maybe he doesn’t know.
“Okay. Hi.”
“I suppose you’re wondering why I’m calling.”
“Yeah, it crossed my mind.”
“You need to throw my brother a bone.”
My heart thumps. “I need to…what?”
“He’s miserable. What the hell happened?”
He’s miserable? A wide grin splits my face. I shouldn’t be happy that Braden’s miserable, but it means he’s miserable without me. So yeah, I’m a little giddy.
Make that a lot giddy.
“I… I think that’s between him and me,” I say.
“God, you sound just like him. He’s in full asshole mode, Skye. He’s out of control.”
Out of control.
So unlike Braden.
“And that’s abnormal for him?” I can’t help asking.
Ben chuckles. “Man, you two are made for each other. Let’s just say he’s being nastier than usual. When I asked about you, all I got was a growl.”
“A growl?”
“Yeah. And I’m not exaggerating. I’m being literal. He fucking growled like a wolf, and then he said you were over.”
“Then you know as much as I know,” I say.
“No offense, Skye, but that’s crap, and we both know it.”
I can’t fault his observation, but no way in hell am I telling Ben that his brother dumped me because I wanted him to tie a rope around my neck. That’s a little too personal.
Actually, all of this is a little too personal.
But…I have forty-five minutes until I get to my rural home. Maybe I can learn something.
“Ben, what happened between Braden and Addison Ames?”
He pauses a moment. Did the call drop?
Finally, he says, “Addie? That’s ancient history.”
“It’s not that ancient.”
“I can’t tell you anything that Braden hasn’t already.”
“He hasn’t told me anything.”
“Nothing at all?” His inflection makes him sound genuinely surprised.
“Only that they were both young and didn’t know what they were getting into.”
“That’s a big part of it.”
“But I’ve heard other stuff…”
“From whom?”
I swallow. I won’t violate Betsy’s trust. “I can’t say.”
“Fair enough, but if I don’t know the source, I won’t be able to tell you if it’s true or fabricated. So you have to tell me.”
“I don’t have to do anything. I won’t tell you.”
“Then why would you bring it up?”
He has me there. I pause for several seconds.