I sucked in a harsh breath, staring into nothingness in front of me.
The white noise exploded. Suddenly, everything around me disappeared, and I was left with nothing. Bile rose in my throat, words and images of everything that had happened in the past month flitted through my mind. A shuddering breath took away any words I could have said.
Molly carried on chattering away as if she hadn’t just brought my world crashing around me. She faded into the background as shock and fear choked every inch of my body.
“Yeah," she said, "I never bought a new phone because the signal out here is so rubbish that there’s no point, really. I’ll pick one up when I get home. I can just grab all my contacts from your phone; they are basically the same, anyway.” She repeated what I had said in our last argument as if it were her own idea.
Mr Snuggles meowed at me, head-butting my hand, appalled at my lack of attention, but I couldn’t focus on anything else. My legs were close to giving way; body trembling, throat tight as short, sharp breaths took me over.
“Is that Mr Snuggles!?” Molly gasped. “Oh my God, I can’t wait to see him!” She almost screeched as she called down the phone. “How are you, my baby!? How are you doing without your mummy?” she cooed. “He must be missing me so much.”
“Yeah. Yeah. He’s fine.” I couldn’t feel my lips. Nose, cheeks, forehead. Shoulders, arms, chest. It was all vanishing under the horror creeping through me.
There was another beat of silence as she softened again. “I really feel like this is the next stage, you know? Though I’m not looking forward to your mum taking over the wedding plans.”She laughed, carefree, like nothing was wrong even though everything was falling apart around me. “But I’ll just let that go. I don’t want to fight her, though there are things I’d really like for the ceremony, like…”
Her voice faded away as my hand slipped on the counter. I managed to catch myself, grabbing the edge and pressing my elbow against the top to stop myself from falling to the ground or slamming my head off of the cabinets above me. Maybe that would be better than the bleak realisation that was gnawing at the edges of my sanity, waiting to tear free.
I was going to throw up. I needed to get off the phone. I prided myself on my masks, but I couldn’t hide what was happening. I needed to stop, had to collapse, needed to do something that meant I had space to scream.
“You’ve got my flight numbers and everything? Don’t forget to be there an hour early just in case! I want you with a sign and everything, you know how much I love that!”
“Yes, of course. I’ll be there,” I said, though the words tasted like dirt in my mouth.
“Are you alright?” she asked.
“I’m sorry, I’m incredibly tired. Do you mind if I phone you later?”
“Yeah, well, you’re always tired, aren’t you?” She usually said that line snidely, but this time there was a gentleness in her voice. “I’ll let you get some sleep. Just call my dad’s phone, okay?” Her smile showed in her tone. “It’s so good to speak to you, Harry. I love you so much.”
“I love you too,” I forced out through dead lips. I pulled the phone from my ear, staring at the screen with her dad’s name on it, watching it fade and my lock screen returned.
Molly, Dom and I in front of the Eiffel Tower, bathed in peaceful sunshine as we grinned at the stranger who offered to take the photo.
I dropped as soon as the call ended. Pain shuddered through my knees as they hit the hard tile, my heels spread out behind me as my ass pressed against the floor. My phone clattered out of my hand and fell between my thighs.
I couldn’t move. The white and black zig-zag pattern of the tiles filled my eyes, wide with shock. Trembling, I fell forwards, palms flat against the cold surface as I looked at the phone below me. I tried to breathe, but nothing was there. My spiralling thoughts all dominated by a single sick question:Who did this to me?
Molly said she lost her phone…
Nothing. Not a single word about the past month. She hadn't even attempted to contact me. The excuse about her sister wasn't enough. But after the first week, did I even try to get in touch? I had no reason to.
She said that she’d emailed me, and I'd replied to her.
My mind whipped through everything that had happened; key moments from the past month: words, actions, anything that could help answer the questions sending me deeper into darkness.
What kind of person would be so twisted that they pretended to be Molly? How did it happen?Whydid it happen? Was it just to… what? Get themselves off on what they were doing to me?
So many times Mum had warned us about people taking advantage of us. To always keep our guard up, to ensure we maintained our dignity.
But what kind of pervert would have sent someone a vibrator pretending it was from their fiancée, and sat silent at the other end of the line while I fucked myself with it?
I choked out a cry as tears rolled down my cheeks, splashing onto the backs of my hands.
One name whispered in the back of my mind. One that had been plaguing me for weeks. One I didn’t even want to consider.
Because Dom wouldn’t do that to me. I trusted Dom; he was there for me through everything. There was no chance.
But the first time, the very first time, two days after Molly left, the day after we sexted, Dom showed up. I left him alone, sitting in front of my laptop.