Chapter Seven: Without you

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I slowly open my eyes, more exhausted than when I went to sleep. Henry has been gone for two weeks and things have only gotten worse. Because the world knows who I am now, I find myself followed often. People come to the restaurant, not to eat but to ask me questions. Most of the time it's the same questions over and over again.

I sit up and sigh. I don't remember eating yesterday, and my stomach lets me know. I struggle to stand, shaking a little. My whole body feels weak like I might blow away in the wind.

Today is the first day I have had off of work since Henry left. We had two people quit right after he left. During all that work, I've been doing my schooling too. I'm determined to get my bachelor's. Somehow I have managed to get a day without either scheduled; no work, no classes, no online test, nothing. No plans at all for the day. I know what I'll do though, the same thing I do every time I finally get a day off. Lots of laundry, cleaning and catching up on homework.

While I work on making a smoothie, I look over Instagram. I've got to the point of checking it every day. Mostly to check the comments on a daily. Henry keeps telling me to ignore them but I can't. There are so many bad ones.

Much to my surprise, Henry has posted a picture of us. I hadn't realized he took it. It's from when we were sitting on the bench together. It's just before he showed me the pictures and I looked shocked. Instead, I'm smiling nervously, looking up at him. I had been following him with my eyes.

'Dear fans and followers, I wanted to make a wee announcement. I couldn't help but notice that there has been some social animosity of late. There has been lots of, let's call it speculation for now, about my private life and personal relationship. It has come to such a point that I needed to say something, which in itself, is a bad thing. To those of you out there who are expressing your disdain and showing your displeasure, it's time to stop. I know it can be fun to speculate, to gossip, and to dive into our own personal echo chambers on the internet, but your "passion" is misplaced, and it causes harm to the person I care about most. I am very happy in love, and in life. I'd be enormously grateful if you were happy with me. If you can't bring yourself to be happy with me, then at the very least try to do yourself proud and be the best version of yourself.'

My jaw falls open as I reread his post. It's incredible how noble and sincere he sounds. A single tear slides down my cheek as I read it again. He doesn't mention who it is about, but part of me hopes it's about me. Maybe that makes me greedy. I turn off the blender and hesitantly call Henry.

"Hello, darling?" He questions, obviously tired.

"I'm sorry, did I wake you?" I ask nervously as I pour my smoothie into a glass.

"You did, but it's absolutely worth it. How are you, my love?" He asks through a yawn.

"I read your post."

"Oh, really? What did you think?"

"I think you are incredibly charming and I miss you greatly. But I do want to know what set it off." I purr, surprisingly happy given how tired I am.

"Well, I miss you too. As for what set it off, it's been building for weeks. I guess I finally had enough of their comments. They have gotten worse lately. More of them have turned sexual. Some even suggest that I pay you to pose as my girlfriend to earn more sympathy fans. I just couldn't handle it anymore." He sighs but speaks before I can comment.

"Maybe we can video call later? I miss seeing you in more than a picture."

"I'd like that, a lot. I don't understand why they would think you are paying me. It does make some of the questions they have been asking make more sense." I fiddle with the hem of his shirt, wishing it still smelt like him.

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