You're Invited(6)

“Thank you for a lovely evening, my dear. You can remove your blindfold when you hear the door close,” he said, his voice dripping over me like a luxurious oil.

“Mm-hmm,” I replied, feeling the soft folds of the sheets. The room was mine until tomorrow, where I could have breakfast in bed if I wanted before the limousine would drop me back home. I’d have a bath after he left, I thought, touching the welts that were starting to develop on my butt and thighs. Thank goodness for the fancy lotion in the bathroom. That always helped.

But first I needed to check my phone. The urgency of it slapped me out of my warm daze.

It was like he could feel the shift of energy in the room.

“Clara?” he asked, an edge of hesitation in his voice.

“Yes?” I sat up. He never calls me by my name—fake one included. He certainly never makes small talk afterward. I hoped he wasn’t asking about drinks again. I didn’t think I had it in me to dodge it a second time.

“Is everything all right?”

“All right?”

“Yes. You, well, seemed a little distracted today.”

It was her post. I knew it. Every time I thought I’d pushed it out of my mind, it would sneak back in. A thorn in my side. Impossible to ignore.

I thought I’d done a good job pretending that it hadn’t taken over my thoughts. I guess I was wrong. But what could I tell him? Sorry I wasn’t all here. My old best friend, who I haven’t spoken to in years, whose social media accounts I stalk relentlessly, just said she had a huge announcement, and I’m filled with so much unexplained dread that I can’t relax until I figure out what it is.

No, I could never tell him that. That, especially that, was certainly not part of our arrangement.

“I have a few things on my mind.” I kept my voice light. “You know how it is.”

“Did you enjoy our time together tonight?” Always the gentleman.

“You know I did.” I kept my voice low. Sexy. I was only ever like this with him. I cringed when I even I thought about being provocative otherwise.

“I’ll see you in a few weeks, then.” I felt him reach over and drop a kiss on my forehead. It was tender and sudden and not something he usually does while saying goodbye.

But then he was gone, and I yanked off the blindfold with one hand while reaching for my phone with the other.

I was just unlocking it when I stopped myself.

Is this really who I was? Five years later and a single Instagram post about announcing a surprise has me worked up all evening?

I took a deep breath. I checked the time. 12:13 a.m.

Not perfect doubles, but consecutive numbers are good, too, right? I’m sure it’s just something about her charity. I’m sure she’s just making a big deal about it for the attention, or the Instagram hearts. I sat on the edge of the bed and pulled up the app on my phone.

There was a new post.

Kaavi had uploaded two pictures.

The first was a close-up of the most breathtaking diamond and rose gold ring I had ever seen.

My heart started pounding in my chest.

Breathe, I reminded myself.

The next was a picture of her holding her hand over half her face, so only a part of her wide smile could be seen. The ring shone out like a beacon from her finger.

She’s getting married.

She’s getting married and moving on with her life. Of course she was. I’m just not a part of it anymore.

It was to be expected, I know. We weren’t friends now. We haven’t been in years.

I should be happy for her. She’s moved on. My own failure to launch has nothing to do with her, even though it had everything to do with her.

It felt like a wave crashed over me and I drowned, feeling myself getting pulled down to the bottom. But after what felt like far too long, my head broke the surface again. I came out, gasping for air. And I realized that even though we haven’t spoken in five years, something didn’t quite make sense.

She wasn’t dating anyone, was she? At least there was no one serious enough for her to post about on Instagram. And Kaavi posted everything on Instagram, from her breakfast to her workouts to her holidays.

Or maybe she just posted what she wanted others to see. Maybe she was private about some things after all. Or maybe it was an arranged proposal? Her parents would certainly have gotten antsy about her being single for so long. But I just couldn’t shake off how odd it felt.

I was still logged in through KimKx, so I left a comment—Congratulations!

Then I logged in as IllegallyBlonde99 and left another—So happy for you xxx

Then as ForestFern23—How wonderful <3 Congrats!

There were more accounts I could have commented from, but I suddenly felt exhausted.

I got off the bed.

Time for that bath.

I made it as lush as I could today. All the soap bubbles and oils and fancy salts. I needed all the pampering I could get. My oldest friend was getting married, and here I was, in a ridiculous old hotel, getting my behind spanked once a month by a man whose face I have never even seen.

I looked through the replies from my various accounts as I waited for the tub to fill. They didn’t sound too much like they came from the same person, but I doubt she analyzed all her fan responses anyway.

She’d added another picture to the post, because I didn’t notice a third one as I swiped between her face and the ring the first time around. It was a typical couples’ selfie. He had his arms wrapped around her while she had her phone pointed at a mirror.