The sound of the door closing echoed throughout my apartment, thanks to it being barely furnished. There was a small table with two chairs in the kitchen. The living room had only the essentials: a couch, a coffee table, an area rug, a couple of pillows, one throw blanket, a laptop, and a stack of books and magazines. I didn’t even have a television.
I had one framed photo on the wall. I walked to it, admiring the smiling faces in the picture and the gold frame that outlined it. It was a photo of my sister, her husband, and their two young kids. She looked like a younger version of me by a couple of years. Her children were blond with big blue eyes and even bigger smiles. Her husband towered over her petite size with light-brown hair and green eyes. I had never met the children, my niece and nephew. It was difficult for me to take time off from the salon. She hadn’t been down to visit me since before she started her family. It was challenging for her to travel with young kids. We were sisters, connected by DNA and a shared upbringing, but other than that, we were strangers. I guess that’s what happens when a person makes work their whole life. I pressed my fingertips to the glass, touching it for a moment. Letting out a deep breath, I allowed my hand to fall back to my side and made my way to the kitchen. I poured myself a glass of red wine from an already opened bottle. Prior to the break-in, I wasn’t a big drinker. Well actually, prior to the break-in, I wasn’t a lot of things. I wasn’t scared, jumpy, or anxious. I didn’t wake up drenched in sweat in the middle of the night. I didn’t double-and triple-check that doors were locked. I didn’t tense up every time the bell chimed at the salon. That night had taken a piece of me, and I wasn’t sure I was ever going to get it back.
With wine in hand, I walked back into the living room and took a seat on the couch. Firing up my laptop, I opened a browser and typed eHarmony into the search bar. It autofilled before I could finish typing it, as I had visited the site nearly two years ago.
It was on one of the many nights Keisha and I had had drinks after a long day of work. She kept pushing me, telling me I needed to start dating, that I wasn’t getting any younger. Not much had changed. After my third drink, I agreed to let her help me set up a dating profile. We spent hours on it and somehow actually made me sound interesting. We messaged one eligible bachelor that we both agreed could potentially be a good match for me. Keisha wanted to message a dozen. She believed the more hooks we put out, the more we’d catch. I wasn’t looking for quantity. I was looking for quality. If I’m being honest, I wasn’t sure I was really looking at all, but I was trying to be open to it. That was the first and last time I had looked at the site. I had never revisited it, never followed up to see if he had messaged me back. I wasn’t ready, or maybe I feared the rejection. Maybe what terrified me more was the opposite of rejection. What if he had wanted to get to know me? To date me? To love me?
Logging into my account, I typed in my password and username. It took me a few moments to figure out how to navigate the site. I found the little envelope with the number one over it. I had a message. It was eighteen months old, and it was from a man named Henry. I remembered him. He was our front-runner that evening and the only man we messaged. He worked in finance. Never married. No kids. Dog lover. Tall. Athletic. Ready to settle down and focus on the things that mattered in life, like love, laughter, and family. He had worked hard, solely focused on his career for many, many years. He was perfect.
I slowly read the message.
Hello, Jenny. I was so pleased to receive your message. It sounds like we have more in common than we care to admit. Overworked, me too. Ready to live, me too. The belief that cats are for people that never had the love of a dog, me too. I’d love to take you out to dinner sometime, so we can discuss anything but work and talk about how great dogs are . Look forward to hearing from you.
—Henry
My lips spread into a massive smile, one I couldn’t contain. It was the first time since the attack that I felt anything other than anxiety. I reached for my wine and took a drink of the liquid courage. Setting the glass back down, I cracked my fingers and took a deep breath. This was it. I was finally going to put myself out there. Keisha was right. I needed more than Glow.
Moving the cursor over to his name, I clicked on it. The screen loaded and it said, Profile No Longer Exists. I refreshed and clicked it again, receiving the same error code over and over. I took another drink of wine, then opened a new tab. I brought up Facebook and typed his first and last name into the search bar. His profile was the first one.
Just as I was about to click Add Friend, I stopped. His last post on his wall caught my eye.
So happy to announce that Ashley and I are engaged. She’s everything I have ever wanted in a partner. Here’s to a lifetime of love, laughter, and all the dogs.
Below the photo was a picture of him in a suit and his smiling bride-to-be. She was blond and petite . . . like me.
I closed the laptop and tossed it on the coffee table with a thud, knocking over the wine and spilling it onto the area rug. I didn’t flinch. I didn’t attempt to immediately clean it up. Instead, I wrapped a blanket around myself and laid down on the couch. Squeezing my eyelids closed so that they held back my tears, I sank deeper and deeper into myself, finding what it was that I truly had at my core: nothing, just a deep emptiness. I knew I couldn’t go on living like this.
47
Karen
Keisha pulled out her phone and put on a Spotify playlist of early 2000s R&B songs, while I leaned against the table in the waxing room. Placing her phone on the counter, she turned to me.
“What’s the music for? Trying to get me in the mood?”
“I don’t need to try, honey.” She winked. “The music is to cover the screams of pleasure I’m about to bring out of you.”
I raised an eyebrow. “Is that so?”
She walked to me and put her lips on my neck, licking and kissing all the way up to my hairline. “I’d say so,” she whispered hot breath into my ear. The hair on the back of my neck stood. My heart raced. I tingled all over.
“How much time do we have?” I asked, my breath already ragged.
Keisha glanced over at the clock on the wall. “Thirty minutes. Jenny said she needed a couple hours, but she’s never away from this salon for more than thirty minutes during working hours.”
“How’s she holding up?” I asked, while Keisha slid her top off, revealing a black lacy bra. She pulled mine off too, revealing a red lacy bra. We had clearly known we were going to see each other today or at least hoped we would, hence the lace rather than the usual cotton bras I wore.
“She’s not herself. Hasn’t been since the attack. And she’s overworked and stressed with all the drama in the salon lately.”
I felt a pang of guilt.
Keisha unzipped her pants and slid them down her toned thighs. I followed suit, revealing my creamy-white runner’s legs. I really needed to actually get a spray tan one of these times. The girls were going to get suspicious if I kept going in for “spray tans” and coming out my usual pale self.
“I’m going to try to help put an end to the drama. I’ll see if I can get everyone to get along and be cordial with one another in the salon . . . for Jenny’s sake.”
“Good luck.” Keisha laughed.
“What’s that supposed to mean?” I took a step back, looking at her, trying to focus on her icy-blue eyes, but her full lips that begged to be kissed always grabbed my attention.
“I’m just saying it’s not going to be easy. Every one of you has been off since Bryce traded Shannon in for Crystal.” Keisha bit her lip and put her hands on her hips.
“Even me?” I stammered.
“Yes, even you.” Keisha shifted her hips. I leaned back on the table.
“How so?” I raised my eyebrows.
“Well, you’re sleeping with me.”
“You think me sleeping with you is just me ‘being off ’?” I made air quotes with my fingers and then returned my hands to my hips.