Page 17 of What Goes Around

A photo of me and Thomas outside his building, his hand gripping my arm, my head pressed against his shoulder.

I hugged him because he was crying. Because I pitied him.

But that didn’t matter.

Before the night was over, the internet had a brand-new story:

“Ashley Richards seen embracing Thomas Hale — her dead best friend’s fiancé.”

The comments came fast, vicious, and endless.

“Didn’t waste much time, huh? #Homewrecker”

“Disgusting.”

“Didn’t even wait until the body was cold.”

“Homewrecking witch.”

“No wonder Payton drove off that night.”

Nick had been tagged a dozen times. I stopped scrolling after a while. But the words burned behind my eyelids anyway.

Chapter 7: Burned

On Sunday evening, I cleaned the apartment and scrolled through job ads until my eyes blurred. My heart and soul felt shattered, but I kept telling myself it would get better. I would get better. I had to.

I’d find a job. I’d enjoy the outdoors again. I’d start over.

And maybe one day, I’d be happy again.

Nick would always be a part of me. I would never forget him or the love we’d shared.

But how could he not trust me? How, after four years, could he think so little of me?

Did he even know me at all?

I had to let him go.

I had to move on.

And if I said it enough times, maybe I would start to believe it.

Out of habit, I glanced at my phone. It was always on silent now. The hateful calls and messages had made sure of that.

I really needed to change my number, but I didn’t have the money.

One notification caught my eye.

Sent ten minutes ago.

Unknown number: You need to come outside. Urgent. It’s about Payton.

My stomach tightened.

Another message appeared.

Unknown number: If you care about the truth, meet me. It’s time you knew what really happened.