Curious and guilty, I plopped onto the bed and opened my laptop—logging into Words & Letters.
The moment that my profile appeared, a new alert popped up.
Ryan/Dane.
I debated going out to dinner before reading it, or resisting the urge until tomorrow, but curiosity won out.
Letter Topic: Our Meet Up Today
Dear Bella,
I’m going to make a few assumptions about why you would blatantly lie to me about coming to Spokane and wasting my goddamn time.
One, you changed your mind at the last minute because you didn’t want to ruin the current state of our relationship.
I’ll forgive you if it’s this one, but since you know how important time is to me, I won’t respond to any more of your messages.
The woman who I’ve come to know would never do this shit. Then again, maybe she was never who I thought she was.
Two, you’ve been lying to me this entire time, and the clock has finally run out on your imposter charade.
I’ll never forgive you for this one either, but I’d appreciate a reply, so that I can know the truth.
After seven months of letters, you owe me an explanation. Whatever it is.
Ryan
TEN
Ryan/Dane
I refreshed my messages for the umpteenth time the following morning, growing increasingly frustrated by Bella’s lack of a response.
I should’ve fucking known.
It didn’t usually take her this long to get back to me—especially lately, and I couldn’t believe that she was ghosting me.
Even if the writing on the wall was more than clear, I couldn’t help but think that she did get on that plane. That maybe she’d landed, caught sight of me, and changed her damn mind.
Impossible.
My ego wasn’t willing to swallow that reasoning at all.
Walking over to my balcony, I shut the exclusive case of wine that I’d chilled for the night before.
I tried slowly to erase all the thoughts of what I planned: Fucking her against the railing, in the rain. Bending her over the chair in my bedroom and pounding her pussy until she screamed my name at the top of her lungs.
I returned the bottles to the cellar and cancelled our brunch reservation in the mountains.
As I refreshed my messages yet again, my phone buzzed with a call. Michael.
“Yeah?” I answered.
“I need a raincheck on tonight,” he said. “Eliza is going into labor early.”
“Then why the hell didn’t you send me a text message?” I asked. “Pretty sure you should be in the delivery room right now.”
“Wait a minute, whoa. I’m not that big of an asshole.” He laughed. “They’re inducing her in two hours. I wouldn’t dare call you anytime around then, you’re not that special to me.”
“Noted.” I rolled my eyes. “I was planning to ask you for a raincheck anyway since I had plans. Sometime next week.”
“Perfect,” he said. “Her mother is here and already driving me insane, so I’m sure she’ll want a break from me by then. I love her, but I really hate her family.” He paused for a few seconds. “Like, if I could get away with strangling some of them, or putting a hit out, I would.”
“I’m not going to be an accomplice to any more of your murderous thoughts.” I laughed. “I’m hanging up now.”
“Please don’t,” he said. “Please. Give me a few minutes of anything non-baby and non-husband related.”
I started to ask him about his upcoming company party, but he spoke first.
“Her parents are demanding that I cancel my company mixer this weekend. Mind you, they told me two weeks ago that I needed to reschedule it and host it on our estate, so I changed the shit to shut them up. I can’t push it back again, though. The investors will be pissed, and they really don’t get it.”
“I know.” I smiled. “Is that why you flew Christina up here, then? Are you using her visit as an excuse to get away from the in-laws?”
“Huh? I didn’t fly Christina here,” he said. “She’s not due to come and see me for another few weeks. At least, that’s what she told me the last time we spoke.”
I held back a sigh.
I wasn’t sure if I’d ruined some type of surprise plan on her behalf or not.
“I saw her in passing at the airport last night,” I said. “She did mention some type of project, so if I ruined the surprise, do me a favor and pretend like you didn’t know.”
“Will do.” He laughed. “Oh, wait! You were at the airport to pick up that pen-pal woman, right? Was she whatever the hell that you thought she was going to be?”
“I wouldn’t know…” I said. “She never showed up.”
Silence.
Several seconds passed, and I knew that he’d hit the mute button, that he was laughing his ass off.
“You can go ahead and say, ‘I told you so,’ Michael.”
“Oh, I’m going to say way more than that.” His loud laughter was suddenly on the line. “Just be happy that you never sent her any money or got caught up in whatever ruse she was putting you through. No woman—no real woman flies to see a guy after this many months of sending messages on an app. She didn’t even send you a picture. Huge red flag.”