29. Chapter 29
Chapter 29
DAVID: I need to talk to you.
Paige read the text a second time, wondering why David would need to talk to her. The text had come in shortly before midnight the night before, hours after she’d gone to sleep, which gave her pause. She briefly considered it might’ve been a weird, random drunk text, but drunk texts were usually more than a simple I need to talk to you.
She thought of things he might need to talk to her about and her mind immediately went to something related to Ashley. Maybe they’d gotten engaged and were getting married, or they were having another baby, and because of how Paige had been blindsided at Bender’s, he was giving her a heads-up, thinking it was the polite thing to do?
She didn’t want to hear either of those things, to be honest.
With trepidation, she texted him back.
PAIGE: What about?
Given that it was a little after 5 a.m., she figured she wouldn’t get a response for several hours, but when she did finally hear back from, it was late in the afternoon, and she frowned in confusion as she read his response.
DAVID: I was hoping to hear back from you by now, because I really do need to talk to you. It’s important, otherwise I wouldn’t be asking.
She read the text twice and then sent a reply.
PAIGE: Did you not see my response? What do you want to talk to me about?
She kept checking her phone throughout the rest of the afternoon, but hadn’t received any further reply by the time she met Jules after work for dinner and drinks. When Paige told Jules about the texts, she immediately demanded to see them and while she was looking them over, the telltale whoosh sound announced an incoming text.
Jules’s eyebrows rose. “David just texted again.”
“What did he say?”
Jules silently read it and then held it so that Paige could read it, too.
DAVID: I guess you’re ignoring me, so we’ll have to do this in person. I’ll be at the house in about thirty minutes.
“What in the utter hell?” Paige looked at Jules in confusion. “Why would he go to the house? He knows I don’t live there anymore.”
Jules shrugged and then quickly typed a response.
PAIGE: Be sure and tell the new owners I said “Hello.”
PAIGE: And I haven’t been ignoring you, dickface.
Paige read those and made a face. “Why did you do that?”
“Because I wanted to. Anyway, it doesn’t matter, because he won’t get it.”
“He won’t get that you’re calling him a dickface? Sorry, that I’m calling him a dickface?”
“Girl.” Jules looked at Paige like she was a simpleton. “He’s not going to get the text, because he blocked you. He literally won’t get it. I just did that to make myself feel better.”
“If he blocked me, then why is he texting me?”
“He probably forgot he blocked you.”
“What?”
“You know, like he got drunk and drunk-blocked you, but doesn’t remember doing it and now he’s thinking you’re ignoring him.”
“Are you serious? That’s really stupid.”
“Why is that stupid? People drunk-dial … they can drunk-block, too. I mean, the only other explanation would be dementia and I think he’s too young for that.”
Paige made a face at the dementia explanation. “Well, I got texts from him after my concussion, so if he drunk-blocked me, it was after that.”
“Hold on.” Jules grabbed the phone again and re-read all the texts. “Look at this,” she said, tilting the screen so Paige could see. “He asks how you are … you tell him … and then there’s nothing else until the next time he texts. Most people would respond back and say, ‘Glad to hear you’re doing better,’ or something like that, right? A smiling emoji? A thumbs-up? But he never did. Which makes me think he blocked you before the concussion.”
Jules set the phone down and slid it over to Paige. “Do me a favor. Call him and see if he answers.”
Reluctantly, Paige did as instructed; it went straight to voicemail.
“Call him again.”
Paige hung up and then called him again and got the same result. Before Paige could hang up this time, Jules plucked the phone from her hand and when prompted to leave a message, said, “This is Jules. I just wanted to tell you to go fuck yourself for blocking Paige. That’s a total dick move.”
Jules then called David several more times in quick succession, leaving messages that grew progressively more insulting and physically impossible. The last one involved the strategic placement of a metal-studded dildo—which drew the attention of a nearby diner—before Paige could wrestle her phone from Jules.
Unable to stop herself from looking over the texts one more time, Paige realized something and looked across the table at Jules. “I can’t even let him know he’s making a wasted trip to the house.”
Not looking like she gave a single shit, Jules shrugged. “Maybe he’ll remember before he gets there, but if not, it’s his fault for blocking you. Actions have consequences, especially drunk actions.”
Paige pursed her mouth. “What if he blocked me years ago, like right after the divorce?”
“That would make sense,” Jules said slowly. “And it would totally support my drunk-blocking theory.”
“It would also explain Spook.”
Jules nodded thoughtfully. “Yeah. It would.”