Page 12 of A Simple Reminder
My jaw tightens as I exhale sharply, the water cascading over me doing nothing to soothe the raw ache building inside. It shouldn’t matter. It’s been years. People move on. But the sting lingers, deep and raw, making me question everything.
If she erased me from her skin, has she completely erased me from her heart too? Is any sort of reconciliation too late?
Sleep evades me;I find myself turning from side to side, going from too hot to too cold. The sheets cling uncomfortably to my skin, and every attempt to find a comfortable position only seems to worsen things.
I reach for my phone, and the numberone, fifty-five a.m.,shines on the bright display—too bright for this hour of the night. The harsh light cuts through the darkness of the room, casting eerie shadows on the walls. I squint, trying to adjust to the sudden brightness.
Already awake, I gulp down the glass of water on my bedside table before deciding to open social media. I start scrolling through my friends' stories and stumble upon Adeline's. The first one is of her and Sophie cheering with what looks like Espresso Martinis. The next one is a snapshot of both of them in a bathroom mirror, looking as beautiful as ever. My eyes are drawn to the skin-tight leather dress Sophie is wearing. It’s almost enough to make me hard. I clench my jaw, trying to focus on something else, but the image is burned into my mind, relentless and maddening.
The following video catches my attention even more—it's Sophie standing on a chair, dancing. Her hips sway effortlessly, her hands reaching for the sky, causing her skin-tight leather dress to inch up just enough to make my pulse quicken. The sight sends another jolt of desire through me. I need to get a grip—what’s wrong with me? Have I turned back into a horny teenager?
Then, her name catches my eye, tagged in the corner. I hesitate for a moment before pressing it. Her profile is public. She’s uploaded stories, too. Internally, I curse myself for how easily curiosity gets the better of me. I tell myself I shouldn’t watch; she’ll know I’m stalking. But, of course, curiosity wins. My finger hesitates, hovering over the screen until it betrays me with one quick tap. I sit up straight in bed, my heart pounding with anticipation as the first story begins to play.
Just like Adeline, she’s uploaded a video of them cheering and a bathroom photo. What’s new is the third video, which shows both girls singing to ABBA in a crowded bar, each holding a microphone. I chuckle as I watch; if I remember correctly, Sophie is tone-deaf, and I hear hints of this in the video. Despite the off-key notes, they seem to be having fun, their laughter infectious even through the screen.
Where are they?The thought catches me off guard because I know that with that thought, another one might follow.Should I go?No. No, I shouldn't. It’s one thing to stalk her socials, but to show up on her night out only one day after you’ve apparently blindsided her in her own city? No. I can't do that. What I can do, however, is continue the stalking. And I do.
My first question was answered in the last story. She tagged the club they’re at, which is stupid. I scoff; we’re having a talk about cyber security.
The bar itself is in SoHo, which piques my interest. I live in SoHo. It’s not far from me, so if I happened to be there, it wouldn’t count as stalking her—technically, they’re the ones stalking me.
It’s the stupidest thing I’ve ever thought. But hey, we all cling to our little justifications, don’t we?
Curiosity gets the better of me, and I press the club's story. As I swipe through the clips, one catches my eye—Sophie is in the background. A large man is pressing against her from behind, trying to dance with her while she stands still, visibly uncomfortable.What the hell!Anger surges through me like a tidal wave. My jaw tightens, and I grip my phone so fiercely that I can feel the edges digging into my palm, threatening to shatter under the pressure.
I’ve answered my second question too. I’mgoing.
Seething with anger, I’m startled by the sudden ping of my phone. Glancing at the screen, I see a follow request from Sophie. Without a second thought, I accept it and follow her back.
SEVEN
LIAM
Iskipped the taxi; I was too wound up, and the club is only a few blocks away from my apartment. The cool night air does little to calm the storm brewing inside me. Each step feels heavy, my mind replaying the image of that man invading Sophie’s space, touchingher.
But as I step inside, the noise and lights crash into me all at once, momentarily disorienting me. It’s packed, bodies swaying to the relentless rhythm of the music, the air thick with the stench of alcohol, sweat and desperation. My eyes sweep the room, scanning every corner, every shadow, searching for the unmistakable gleam of her blonde hair.
She’s nowhere. A knot twists deep in my stomach, unease spreading. Did that bastard force her into a dark corner, away from the crowd? The thought sends a jolt of fury through me, my hands curling into fists. If he’s touched her, I swear I’ll—I shake my head. No. She’s fine.
I push through the mass of bodies, ignoring the elbows and half-drunk shouts, my focus razor-sharp. The flashing lights and pounding bass do nothing to drown out the one thought pounding in my head:Find her.
As I get closer to the bar, I spot Adeline laughing with a group of people, but still no Sophie in sight.
“Adeline!” I call out over the pounding music. She turns, surprise flickering across her face before it morphs into a radiant smile.
“Liam! What are you doing here?” she asks, stepping closer and wrapping her arms around my neck in a warm hug.
“I was in the neighborhood, my friend Micah wanted to check out this place,” I lie smoothly, the words slipping out before I can think twice.
It’s good to see her, the warmth and ease of her hug pulling me out of the tension that’s been clawing at me since I walked in.
She untangles herself and smacks me on the arm, playful but with just enough force to sting. “Ya hmar! Why didn’t you tell me you were coming to New York—let alone becoming Sophie’s boss?”
I laugh, rubbing the spot where she hit me. Wait. Did she just call me a donkey?
“Sorry, it’s a long story.” I glance around the bar, feigning nonchalance. “Is Soph here as well?” I ask as if I don’t already know she is. Probably not as discreet as I think I am because Adeline narrows her eyes slightly before answering the question I desperately need an answer to.
“Yeah, she needed a little break from the crowd and stepped out on the balcony for some air.” Before I have time to get myself to the balcony, I see a blonde head weave back through the crowd, her steps unsteady and her cheeks flushed. She stumbles slightly, bumping into a woman who spills her drink. But Sophie doesn’t seem to notice as she continues walking toward us, oblivious to the daggers being thrown at her back.
