Whyis she including me in this? What is shethinking?
Felix is staring at me intently. “Keep scrolling,” he says.
With horror, I tap through her chronicle of the past week.
I see photos of me tagged with brand names, like I’m some kind of influencer too.
And then I see Felix.
I read the caption.
I feel ill.
But not as ill as Felix looks.
It dawns on me that it isn’t Lauren that he’s disgusted with.
It’sme.
“I didn’t know about this!” I sputter, because my brain is a kinetic mess of fear and I can barely formulate a thought. “She’s not allowed to post about me.”
Felix looks at me with searching eyes.
“It’s not the posts that are the issue though, is it, Hope? It’s what you’re apparently here for.”
“Whoa, whoa, wait,” I say as calmly as I can. I get why he’s upset by this. But heknowsme. “Please, I understand how this looks,” I say. “But will you just let me explain?”
He sighs. “Please.”
“This is not—” I begin, but I have trouble speaking coherently. I try again. “This gold digger stuff is just Lauren’s schtick. It’s a bit. She’s a reality star. She’s only half serious. And it has nothing to do with me. I had no idea she even posted this. She’s not supposed to put me in her videos. Let aloneyou.”
He closes his eyes, pained.
I sit up, pulling the blanket with me to avoid exposing my breasts.
“Youknowme,” I say. “Do you really think this tracks with my personality?”
“I want to believe you,” he says. “I really do. But there are pages and pages of this shit. You’re all over it. She’s your best friend. There is no reason for her to deliberately make you look terrible.”
Yeah, there’s not. And I can’t fathom why she’s done this. But I’ll deal with that later. Right now, I need to salvage this.
“Felix,” I say, putting my hand on his shoulder. “I came on this cruise because I wanted a fresh start. I wanted to clear my head. I didn’t want to be alonein New York all summer depressed about my breakup and my parents getting divorced.Notbecause I’m trying to find a sugar daddy.”
He winces at the wordssugar daddy.
“Again, why would she say this about you if it weren’t true?” he asks. “And why in the fuckinghellwould she include me?”
“I have no idea. Probably because she thinks we’re cute and thought it would make good content. I’m so sorry. I could fuckingmurderher.”
He says nothing.
It begins to dawn on me that he doesn’t believe me.
“My God, justaskher,” I say. “She’ll back me up.”
“I’m sure she’ll say whatever you want her to,” he says. “That’s the whole point of this exercise, isn’t it? To tell them what they want to hear?” He laughs darkly. “And it worked, didn’t it.”
I stare at him in disbelief. I can’t believe he thinks so little of my character. That after everything we’ve done and shared, he would trust a few Instagram posts over me. That he would even entertain the idea I’ve faked everything I’ve felt for him over the past week. And formoney.
