The Double

𝒯𝒽𝒾𝓇𝓉𝓎-ℱ𝒾𝓋𝑒

It almost feels like getting fired all over again, but with more heartache and in a less comfortable environment since I decided to get an Airbnb for a few days. Thanks to their detective's dossier, Taehyung and Duna know where I live. I don't want to talk to either of them because it would be too painful to have to recount what I said in the letter in person. A clean break is the best break for both bones and relationships.

It's no Irvine, but it's cute, a small sunny apartment in a low-rise on the other side of town. The central design element in the living room is a hard couch that I sit on for hours, staring at my phone, half expecting and half dreading what could ahppen and refreshing my browser every three minutes to see if I've been publicly shamed. Thank goodness my social media is under the generic @suzyand_, so I don't need to worry about that getting flooded. I can watch cat videos in peace even if I need to go into hiding from the world.

For the twentieth time, I almost check to see if Taehyung or Duna have shown up in my voicemail for block callers. I toss the phone aside. That experience is over and whether they try to contact me or not doesn't matter. It's done. I'm done.

Rectitude. If I'd acted with rectitude, I wouldn't be in this position now. I wouldn't have a thing to be ashamed about.

I call Anna and tell her I left and that ZZTV called. I leave out the part about eavesdropping. That hurts too much to talk about.

"I'm sorry, Suzy." Her voice is gentle and holds none of the smugness she's entitled to as a result of being correct that this would end in tears. She's in Vancouver for work, but physical distance has not prevented her from taking on the role of cheerleader with a vengeance.

Anna lets me talk, not interrupting at all, which is so unlike her that I know I must be a more pitiful mess than I thought. Finally, once I filter out, she says, "You have to stop blaming yourself. You have nothing to be ashamed of."

"It was dumb. You told me this was a dumb thing to do."

"I did," she agrees. "But you keep acting like this is some moral failure on your part."

"Didn't you hear what I said? About tricking people?"

"Do you think Duna is ethically lacking? That she's a bad person?"

"No."

"Then give yourself the same consideration."

"Is this life coach advice from the good days?"

"Saw it on an online advice column but it remains valid."

"Maybe." Easier said than done.

"What are you going to do now?"

"Wait for ZZTV to drag my name through the mud and move to Arizona?"

"It's hot there. Dry, too."

"I'll wear booty short and tanks," I say morosely.

Her sigh gusts into the phone. "Do you have a plan B? What about Eppy?"

"I'm working on it."

"Are you working on it or sitting on your ass checking your phone to see if ZZTV released your name?"

I pause. "The latter."

"When this started, you said Duna's team could handle any sandals."

"I did."

"Nothing has happened yet."

"Not yet."

There's a bang, then Anna's voice comes back on. "That was me hitting the phone in frustration," she says. "Here's what you're going to do."