Page 98 of Hotter in the Hamptons

He handed her his phone.

She held her breath as she took it, her heart already thundering in her chest.Now what?

It was Stepped Out’s Instagram, a celebrity gossip and meme account known to their 1.7 million followers for their ruthlessness, irreverence, and breathless coverage of notable people stepping out. Not a super on-brand page for Justin to be looking at.

He had it open to their most recent post: a grainy photo of two women holding hands and walking through a restaurant. One was wearing a skimpy, black dress with long, wild, blond hair; the other, a brunette, was in black linen pants.

It was her and Aly.

“What the fuck is this?”

“Just read it,” Justin said. His voice was eerily quiet.

She bit her lower lip and began to read.

@steppedout: Lesbian chic? More like lesbian SHRIEK! Canceled bland princess Lola Fine has been seen all over East Hampton this summer with none other than rising sapphic star Aly Ray Carter, and they’ve been looking more than a little cozy. Ironic, given that Lola was canceled for being homophobic on main, and if you recall, Aly was the one to twist the knife with that damning, viral profile inThe Cut. ARC, of course, is known for being somewhat of a lesbian Casanova (anyone else remember the Raina era?) so it’s not surprising that she has this kind of pull—what’s surprising is WHO she pulled. All this begs the question: If Lola is queer, did we cancel her for nothing? Or is this just a PR strategy to rehabilitate her image? And if she IS queer, why not just come out? So, readers, tell us what you think: Is this for real, or is it the greatest queer bait of all time?

Oh, and quick PSA: Stepped Out does not condone the outing of anybody, unless of course that person has a documented history of homophobia, in which case we consider them fair game.

With shaking hands, she swiped through the carousel.

Blurry, zoomed-in photos showed her and Aly at Sí Sí, their first real date. Someone at a nearby table must have taken them. They were looking adoringly at each other, holding hands across the table, not paying attention to the world around them.

Clearly.

The phone fell out of her hands, clattering on the floor.

“Justin, I…” She sank to her knees to retrieve it.

“Lola, what the fuck?” he interrupted her. “Aly Ray Carter is the girl I met yesterday?Your neighbor?I’m so confused. Please,pleasetell me you’re not fucking the person who ruined our lives. Literally anyone but her.”

Lola stayed on the ground.

“That’s your idea of a rebound?That woman?” He was yelling now.

“She’s not why we broke up,” Lola said, finding her voice at last. “You cannot blame everything on Aly.”

“Can’t I? Lola, this is so fucking humiliating. After I crossed the country to get you back. You haven’t missed me at all. You’ve just spent all summer sleeping with the one person you knew would hurt me the most.”

The words shot through her, a knife of clarity. Once again, he’d made it abouthim.

She looked up at him: his crisp blue jeans, his pristine sneakers, his stainless-steel TAG Heuer watch. He always looked extra handsome when he was angry.

And then shereallylooked at him.

Here was the man she’d spent so many years loving. It had been hard to see him clearly when they were in their little bubble, having amazing sex and eating $500 groceries and lying around their penthouse. But from this vantage point—not just where she knelt on the floor but with over two months of distance between them—she saw who he was.

He was a good person in many ways. Noble, even.

But in others, he cared about the wrong things. He couldn’t see outside his own ego, his own image. He never could. And maybe that was why she had once been so perfect for him.

Once.

A strange sort of calm settled over her.

“Has it occurred to you that it has nothing to do with you?” she asked, her voice quieter than both of them expected it to be.

He looked startled by it. As though he’d wanted her to scream back. “My parents are going to freak out,” he said.

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