Idly, I stretch again before grabbing my phone. What’s going on today? The screen lights up with some news, and I browse through it. Great, the economy seems to be buzzing along, which means more customers for my bars and clubs. But then, a notification pops up and without even realizing what I’m doing, I click.
Ugh, it’s my ex-wife Candace’s Instagram feed. I groan. How did I think that marrying her would be a good idea? Candace is vapid, but not dumb. My ex has a funny, silly edge to her, and that’s part of the reason why she’s done so well at amassing a following. But still, this isn’t what interests me in life, and while I have a social media manager to market my business, I don’t do any of it myself. But then, Candace’s image begins to speak into the screen and I watch for a moment.
“Hey lovelies,” my ex sings into the camera. She looks perfectly groomed, as usual, with her hair sculpted into a high-ponytail and natural make-up. “I wanted to come on here today to share some wonderful news! It’s about my hubby, Cyrus North, and me. You know we haven’t been married long, but we’ve always wanted to start a family together, and I’m super excited to share with you, my followers, that we’re expecting our first child together! We’re just incredibly happy right now, and we can’t wait to meet our beautiful baby! Of course, I hope you’ll join me as I embark on this journey because there are going to be doctor’s visits, ultrasounds, as well as setting up a nursery and investigating diaper brands! Oooh, it’s going to be so exciting!”
My ears buzz and I can’t really hear as I watch the video. What the hell? What the fuck did Candace just say? I must have heard that wrong because there’s no possible way I’m the father of her unborn child. Shit, we’re divorced, and even before we were divorced, we hadn’t had sex in ages. This little stunt of hers is reprehensible, and I have half a mind to sic my lawyers on her before strangling her with my bare hands.
With a snarl, I restart the video, this time watching and listening for every detail. My ex begins chattering once more, and I barely contain a growl of disgust. This time I notice that Candace is wearing a knee length, skin-tight dress that hugs her body, revealing a bump that could only be one thing: a baby bump. She certainly looks pregnant, and judging from her glowing repartee, she looks every part the happily expectant mother.
But what the fuck? Why is she saying that I’m the father? Didn’t she tell her followers that we’re divorced? The hell if I know what drivel she’s been feeding them.
Suddenly, a loud crash behind me makes me spin around, and sure enough, it’s Josie with a shattered coffee mug at her feet. But that isn’t what sends pain stabbing into my chest or makes my heart crack completely in two. Instead, it’s the devastated look in her eyes as she stares at me, eyes wide, with one hand covering her mouth. It’s obvious she just heard Candace’s little announcement, and there are already tears seeping down her cheeks.
“Josie, baby,” I begin. “It’s not what you think.”
But the curvy girl doesn’t listen. Instead, a heart-wrenching sob tears from her throat, and then she turns around and bolts. She doesn’t even put on her shoes. The curvy girl’s literally dressed in nothing but a tiny camisole and sleep shorts, but she runs so fast that she’s into the elevator before I even realize it.
“Josie, please let me explain,” I call as the gold doors begin sliding shut.
She won’t even look at me, instead frantically jabbing the “close” button. Then, she’s gone and I wait impatiently for the next elevator, but it’s stopped several floors down and seems stuck there. What the fuck are they doing? Moving a piano? There’s no way I’ll catch her now, but I try nonetheless. Like a madman, I take the stairs, but my penthouse is on the thirty-fifth floor, and despite leaping down entire flights of stairs, it’s not enough. By the time I get to the lobby, Josie’s gone.
“Mr. North, can I help you?” a doorman named Donald asks.
“Did you see a woman fly out here?”
He nods, his bushy gray eyebrows lowered.
“Yes sir, and she looked quite upset. I tried to assist her, but she ran off and hopped into a cab.”
“Fuck!”
“Is everything okay, Mr. North?” Donald asks, his expression concerned. I shake my head furiously.
“No, it’s not. I think I just lost the most important person in my life because of a lie. FUCK!” I hiss.
Donald looks alarmed.
“Just let me know how I can help, Mr. North,” he says. “Should I call the police?”