AllFreeNovel
Share Us
Then there was the fact that someone, or maybe multiple someones, was still trolling the snark sites and subreddits for information about her. Brookelle kept a close watch, and she said the posts were always with a generic username and no profile picture. Every time Brookelle reported it to the forum managers, that username was discontinued, but a new one would pop up shortly thereafter. Kev, the tech guy, hadn’t been able to identify an IP address—something about a proxy server or VPN. It made Molly uneasy, but with an online footprint as large as hers, it was impossible to have true privacy.
That evening, after Scott and the girls came home and ate dinner, the four of them went for a bike ride along the Animas River trail. The shade was decent, the river giving off a muggy coolness. Chloe rode the tag-along attached to Scott’s bike, jabbering his ears off. Molly snapped a few pictures, capturing Chloe’s goofy grin as Scott rounded a curve. The tag-along attachment was part of a sponsorship, and Molly had nearly missed the deadline for posting about it.
Ella ended up riding near Molly, and Molly was hopeful they could have a chance to talk. But every time she tried to start a conversation with Ella, the little girl shut her down with a one-word answer and eventually Molly gave up.
In the silence, her mind drifted to the birth certificates—she couldn’t help it. Ella Jane Wander. Gabriela Jane Casillas. The names looped through her thoughts, over and over, as she pedaled her bike past neighborhoods and ponds and parks. Ella Jane Wander. Gabriela Jane Casillas.
She didn’t know much about Scott’s first wife, Molly realized. She’d imagined them as a young, headstrong couple, so head-over-heels in love that they’d married right after college and had a baby, only to have tragedy strike a year later. If she were totally honest, she’d have to admit she liked imagining Scott as a tragic figure. Or more accurately, imagining that she, Molly Sullivan, had been the woman to pull him out of his years of loneliness and grief.
Maybe she should have insisted he talk about his past with her, but she’d always thought she was being supportive by letting him talk when he was ready. But wasn’t it odd he hadn’t even told Molly how his first wife died? He’d said it was an accident. She’d assumed car accident. Now she wondered.
From the beginning, Molly had been attracted to Scott’s total lack of pretentiousness. Too many guys had tried to use her online popularity for their own benefit, but while Scott seemed to admire what she’d accomplished, he’d never seemed overly invested.
Which was why his reaction when she’d posted the picture of him announcing their engagement had been so strange. Molly hadn’t posted about their relationship while they were dating, but once the ring was on her finger, she couldn’t wait to share her good news with the world. It was just a simple snapshot of the two of them, taken in the woods near Scott’s cabin.
The next morning, she awoke to find Scott standing next to the bed, holding his phone.
“You posted a picture of me on Instagram,” he said.
Molly sat up, rubbing sleep from her eyes. “Yes, announcing our engagement.”
“I don’t want you to post anything about me online.” His voice had a brittle edge, and she squinted up at him, confused.
“Anything at all? Ever? You’re a huge part of my life—I can’t just leave you out.”
His face flashed with panic. “Have you posted pictures of Ella?”
“Of course not. I wouldn’t, not without asking.” Molly bit her lip, trying to keep her voice even. “But honestly, don’t you think you’re overreacting? Everyone shares pictures of themselves online.”
“Everyone doesn’t have millions of followers on Instagram.” He ran a hand through his sandy blond hair. “Christ, Molly, you had some psycho kid stalking you. Wasn’t that enough to make you stop oversharing?”
She stood up, arms folded over her sleep shirt. “Okay, first of all: Eddie was not a psycho. And that happened three years ago.”
Eddie Langford was the seventeen-year-old fan who’d gotten perhaps a tiny bit obsessed with Molly. He hadn’t been dangerous, though.
Scott waved a hand in exasperation. “He robbed a Walgreens to bring you your favorite candy!”
Twenty-four packs of her favorite candy, in fact. She’d done a video spot about chocolate-covered cinnamon bears and why they were the quintessential savory-sweet treat. Eddie robbed the Walgreens that night, then waited on Molly’s doorstep, surrounded by bags of candy, until she opened the door. It had been disconcerting, yes, especially when she realized how easily he’d found her home, but she’d never felt threatened.
“That’s hardly scary, Scott. Come on. Some fans get a little weird. It’s part of the job, you know that.”
He exhaled, sat on the bed, and took her hands. “Try to think of it from my perspective, as someone who loves you. As your future husband. Molly girl, it makes me nervous.”
She softened. He was worried; that was understandable. “I know, but you have to trust me. I know how to handle myself.”
“I do,” he said, although he didn’t seem convinced. “I don’t see why you share all this, though. Is it some need for validation?”
Her cheeks stung with irritation, and the next words popped out before she could think them through: “Is the alternative to be like you and totally isolate myself from everyone?”
“You don’t have to share everything!” He threw up his hands. “All these pictures and videos and blogs. It’s relentless.”
“I share them because it’s my job. It’s how I make my living.”
“Great way to make a living—selling yourself to the world!”
“Selling myself! Do you have any idea how insulting that is?” Molly took a gulping breath, the words tumbling out. “Billions of people share pictures and videos about their life, but because I figured out a way to support myself doing it, there’s something dirty about that?”
Usually, Molly was able to brush off criticism of her online persona—she knew it was part of making herself vulnerable to the world. Better to be an open book and risk a few people hating her than closing herself off and staying on the shelf.
