Page 98 of Romance Is Dead

“It was on his phone, who else would have done it?”

“How the hell should I know! Couldn’t it have gone up in the fog or something?”

“Do you mean the cloud?”

“Yes, that!”

“No, he said his phone doesn’t upload photos anywhere else.” I frowned, irritated my dad was giving Teddy the benefit of the doubt instead of trusting me. “Therefore, he was the only one who had access.”

“Hmm.” The potatoes all peeled, he moved on to carefully slicing them into fries. “Couldn’t someone have taken his phone? And sent the photos themselves?”

My mouth snapped shut. I was embarrassed to admit I hadn’t thought of that. Was that really possible? No, I decided.

“People have passwords on their phones, Dad. People can’t just grab your phone and access your stuff.” I scraped a nail against the counter, picking at a speck of dried focaccia dough. “It’s pretty obvious he sold it for the money or attention, likely both.”

“If you say so.” He filled a bowl with ice water to soak the fries. “Listen, I trust your judgment.” He hesitated, drying his hands on a tea towel.

I raised an eyebrow. “But what?”

“In this business, it’s impossible to guarantee that no one will ever use you for your connections, or want something from you, or only want to get close to you because of some version of you they’ve cooked up in their head. But. . .” He fiddled with the towel, straightening it where it hung off the oven handle. “If you never give anyone a chance, you’ll be awfully lonely.”

“That’s not true. I have Mara, I know I can trust her.” But even as I said it, I knew it might no longer be true.

“Sure. And how many others?”

I tipped up my chin. “Maybe I don’t need others.” I knew I was being stubborn, but there was a part of me that believed it, too.

“Ok. You know you better than me.” He walked around the counter and wrapped an arm around my shoulders. “I just want you to be happy.”

I nodded. I wanted me to be happy, too. Why couldn’t I figure out how to be?

Chapter Thirty-two

I spent the night on the couch, so miserable that even Daffy took pity on me. She curled up by my feet until she woke up at the ungodly hour of five in the morning, tickling and nudging my arm with her paws until I got up and fetched her some fruit from the fridge.

She rejected the apples, but the blueberries she deemed acceptable.

Pouring myself a cup of coffee, my brain slowly started to come online in the quiet kitchen, the sunlight diffusing the room with a warm glow. The more awake I grew, the more the anger and resentment that had filled my body the day before was gradually replaced by an empty ache.

It had only been a day, but I already felt Teddy’s absence like a physical thing—my chest vacant and hollow. I didn’t know you could miss a person like this, like a piece of myself had been ripped away. I wanted to tell him about the baby bonsai tree my dad was growing, and the dream I’d had last night about Natasha turning into a lemon. But just as I reached for my phone I remembered, with the inevitably blank home screen telling me that he also hadn’t called or texted.

I’d told him not to.

I didn’t have a choice, I reminded myself as I rooted around the fridge for breakfast supplies. I pulled out eggs, a knob of cheese, and some ham for omelettes. I absolutely could not be with someone I couldn’t trust. Placing the food on the counter, I moved on to searching the cupboards for a pan.

Teddy had lied to me.

He’d used me.

And despite whatever he claimed to feel for me, he’d still been planning to throw it all away for a chance at fifteen more minutes of fame on another dating show.

I was better off now, no matter how much it hurt.

Woken by the smell of freshly brewed coffee, my dad eventually joined me in the kitchen. I made us breakfast and afterwards he gave me free reign to spend the day moping around the cabin. I watched an old Puzzle Face movie, finished crocheting my blanket, and even took a hike on a nearby trail, hoping the fresh air would bring me peace and clarity.

It did not.

Instead, not only did I manage to get hot, sweaty, and supremely uncomfortable despite the pleasant autumn weather, but I also had plenty of time to ruminate on the fact that the only thing I’d succeeded at in the past few weeks in addition to getting my heart broken and botching my friendship with Mara was failing to get justice for Trevor and Brent. They hadn’t been perfect, but they hadn’t deserved the fate they’d been dealt, and they still had people in their lives that deserved answers and closure.

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