Page 57 of Ring Me

Chapter 18

Goldfish Memory

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EVEN THOUGH I'D BEENessentially living with Conner, I made sure to swing by my apartment to feed Ariel and check in on things. I picked up my mail every morning on the way into work.

The stack of mail in my box was the kind you'd get if you went out of town for a week.What is all this?Scanning the envelopes with a paranoid frown, I gathered it and brought it inside. I promptly dumped it unceremoniously onto my kitchen table. It only took a second for me to understand what it all was.

RSVPs to my 'wedding' next year.

My mother had been aghast at how I'd sent out digital invites. She'd be happy to know people were bothering to send me physical responses. Sighing, I flipped through the pile. I opened one from a friend I rarely saw:

Oh my gosh, Maya! I'm so happy for you! Can't wait to be at the wedding—waiting for more details. A proper invite with a location, maybe? Thinking positive thoughts about the new dream couple, Maya and Conner Whynn!

All the best,

Penelope

Seeing my name snuggled close to Conner's was like getting kicked in the stomach. Fighting down a wave of regret, I debated throwing the mail right in the trash. There wasn't going tobeany wedding. What was the point? Why had I let things go this far?

Because of Mom?I wondered.Or because I fell hard for him?

Shuffling around in my striped pajama bottoms, I made myself two microwaved waffles—one for hunger, one to soothe misery—and then sat lotus style in a chair in front of Ariel's tank.

She swam closer, her orange fines unfurling gracefully in the water. “Why are relationships so complicated?” I asked her. She bobbed around in a lazy motion. “You're lucky. You're happy to have this whole tank to yourself. You'd hate sharing your space, or food, with someone.”

As if to prove my point, I sprinkled some flakes into her tank. While she gobbled up the bits hungrily, I chewed a mouthful of waffle. “See?” I mumbled through the food. “You can't pretend your life isn't awesome. Plus, if something bad does happen to you, you have the luxury of forgetting it in a few hours.”

My phone buzzed with a message. In my eagerness to see if it was Conner, I fell out of my chair. “Ow!” I groaned, rubbing my ass. I snatched my phone from where I'd left it by the mail.

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MOM: DON'T FORGET,you promised to visit Pappy today.

Shit! Ihadforgotten about that!

Me: Got it, I'll be there soon!

Mom: He'll be really happy to see you. He's wanted one on one time with you for months but you were always busy.

Boy, she was not subtle. Shoveling the rest of my waffles down, I threw my hair into a lazy bun, then dressed in a pair of torn jeans and a mostly-clean navy tee-shirt that said Santa Barbara Summer on the front in faded white letters. I'd bought it years ago when I first took a trip there, and once it gained some holes, it became relegated to my 'sleeping in all day' drawer.

As I gathered my purse and keys, I looked back at Ariel. “See you tonight,” I said. “And every night from here on out. I'm done being betrayed by men.”

Goldfish had short memories. Not me.

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THE DRIVE TO MY GRANDFATHER's farm on the outskirts of Tennessee wasn't the lone wolf road trip I wanted it to be. The weather was beautiful—the wind tossed my hair through the open window—but the radio insisted on playing songs that made me think of Conner.

When Lizzo came on, I shut it off, but not before I started to cry. “Fuck!” I shouted, slapping the steering wheel. Why had everything turned out so wrong? Why wasn't I instantly over him, considering what he'd done? All of our encounters were now tainted by the fact I knew thathehad known everything I'd admitted privately on the app.

I wouldn't have been so honest about my filthy kinks if I'd thought someone would read them. I'd been unsure about the first meeting with Conner, and my whole no strings attached plan had come from my certainty that keeping my sex life relegated to a hotel hook up was the best I could do. I hadn't wanted another Ben.

Conner wasn't Ben... but was what he did any better?

I checked the radio—more Lizzo. Plugging in my phone, I scrolled with one hand until Cynthia Southerbee appeared. Maybe listening to something I hadn't shared with Conner would be safer.

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