“And you know what else?” Jennifer leans in, her voice dropping conspiratorially. “He stole fireworks and drugs from my son, like a damn psychopath.”
I nod slowly, processing this bizarre and troubling information. I’ve known Timmy for only a few weeks, and yet so much of what she’s saying aligns—just with slightly different details. The mood swings, the fixation on specific people, the weird power plays. It feels like déjà vu in fast forward.
“He said some things to me that were super weird,” I contribute. “He kept saying that he’s always the one who is pursued.”
“Pursued?” She’s incredulous. “Who is he being pursued by?”
“I don’t know,” I blurt out. “The police?”
She and her friend howl with laughter, and I join in, because weall know it’s true. Other than his skanky friend who keeps coming around, there’s literally no chance women are pursuing Timmy with the way he behaves. He’s delusional.
Then she says something that sends a chill down my spine. “He has this routine, you know. When he screws up, he’ll bring you gifts—shells, leis, maybe cook for you. He'll give you back rubs, foot rubs. It’s like clockwork.”
It all tracks. Nearly all of it.
Foot rubs? I frown. “Wait... he gives foot rubs?”
“Yep,” she confirms. “Always has. That’s part of his little apology playbook.”
I blink, stunned. The back rubs, the cooking, the shells, the leis—it all felt so genuine when he did it for me. But now, knowing he’s used these same gestures on someone else—and likely on every girl before me—makes it feel cheap, mechanical. Like I’ve fallen for a carefully rehearsed act. It’s not personalized, it’s not special. It’s just... his method.
I feel foolish. All those moments that seemed so unique, so sweet—they weren’t about me at all. They were just the next steps in a well-practiced routine. I can’t shake the pit growing in my stomach.
Then Jennifer pulls out her phone, scrolling through texts with a sly grin. “When did you guys start seeing each other?”
“March 22nd.”
She raises an eyebrow. “Well, here’s a fun one. This is from March 23rd. It looks like you guys were at Sails down at the harbor, and it must have reminded him of when we went there together.” She hands me her phone. There, plain as day, is a text from Timmy. A picture from the tropical bar he’d told me it was his first time visiting, along with the message: ‘I miss your crazy aggressive ass.’
My breath catches in my throat. He told me it was his first time at that bar. I’d believed him—felt special because of it. And now I’m holding the evidence that he’d not only been there before, but used it as a backdrop to text his ex while we were sitting in the bar together.
“Wait… he told me he’d never been there,” I say, feeling dizzy. “He made a huge deal about it.”
Jennifer rolls her eyes. “Timmy? Please. He’s a pathological liar. He probably doesn’t even remember going. The guy drinks like a fish, but he’s been twice with me.”
My mind spins. Why lie about something so trivial? And more importantly, why text his ex the moment we started dating?
“And he doesn’t have a driver’s license, by the way.”
I stare at her, confused. He’s been driving me all over Sunset Cay. “Seriously?”
“Yeah, he’s had it taken away. He’s had a couple of DUIs. He’s not legally meant to be driving, but he just does it, anyway.”
“Oh, wow. I had no idea.”
She nods, knowingly. “And he’s so insane… I guess he was dating a doctor a while back. Before me. And he drove her vehicle into the ocean.”
“What the actual hell?” My eyes grow wide.
She nods. “Yep.”
I do remember him saying something about a Rubicon, driving it into the sea, like he was proud. And like it was a normal thing to do. But I’d just put it down to being one of Timmy’s crazy stories.
“When we went to visit his parents, he got arrested because he got drunk and went crazy and threatened people.”
My mind is swirling.
“And my final straw was here, in Sunset Cay,” she adds. “We went over to the Juggernaut for a surfing contest. And he got obliterated drunk, like usual… made a huge scene. It was then that I knew I couldn’t handle his bullshit anymore. He’s so embarrassing. He’s such a mess.”