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Summary
“He's probably one of those men who’s obsessed with their wives,” her friend had said sagely.
Twist of the wrist. Her wound jagged now. Harder to stitch back together. It was all so stupid. She asked Mandy to tell her that. Get it in my head that I’m being so fucking stupid.
“Show me a picture?” Mandy had asked instead. So Samira did. A goddamn screenshot she took from his public Facebook profile picture, because of course that was the only place she could find a picture of him. But he wasn’t holding a fish in it or anything. It was, inexplicably, an artsy affair clearly captured on real film, no filter. He was sitting forward in a chair below a gallery wall of oil paintings, a trailing plant a paid actor rounding out the top right corner. His elbows were on his knees, flash illuminating his eyes, throwing the corded muscles of his forearms in shadow as he clasped his hands just in front of his chin. Candid and casual. At fucking ease, with his stark wedding ring in center frame.
Oh shit, oh shit, her friend had texted back. I’m sorry, that’s devastating.
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Abbot's married. Extremely married. Samira gets through it.
(aka how they became inseparable)
Series
- Part 2 of comeback kid