9
After a while, I remembered Rena wouldn’t have seen my engagement post since I’d blocked her, I got up, unblocked her, and pinned it to my Instagram.
Eliza, seeing me, smiled and leaned over. “I want to post, too.”
“Go for it, just don’t copy mine.”
11:53 AM
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She laughed. “Don’t worry. I’ve got my own.” Her post was even more elaborate, with a full nine–photo grid of the engagement ceremony. Her caption read, “Cheers to the engagement!”
Then I saw a comment that made me pause: “Oh my gosh, is that Tyler Marsh? You really got him, Eliza. All that time finally paid off.”
As Eliza went to shower, I clicked on the commenter’s profile, realizing she was a high school classmate. Outside, thunder rumbled, and it looked like rain was on the way.
A knock came, sudden and loud. I didn’t need to guess who it was.
I went down, still marked by Eliza’s lipstick, and opened the door. Rena saw the mark, and her eyes filled with pain. Outside, it was snowing, and her clothes were soaked.
She spoke softly, “Tyler, I’ve stopped acting out. Can’t you forgive me? I didn’t think much of it, but I assumed you wouldn’t want such a grand engagement ceremony.”
I sighed, raising my engagement ring. “I’m already engaged.”
“You can relax, Miss Hart. You’ll get an invitation to our wedding.”
Right then, Eliza came downstairs, wrapping her arms around me from behind, her wet hair dripping onto my shoulder. She looked at Rena with a smug smile. “You’re late, Miss Hart.”
Rena clenched her fists, ready to lash out, and Eliza looked ready to match her energy. I quickly shut the door. “If you two want to fight, I’ll just call the police.”
Eliza laughed, patting my head. “Don’t worry. If you’re not into it, I won’t fight her.”
Rena’s voice came from outside, pleading, “Tyler, my head hurts. Help me.”
Eliza, like a mischievous child, covered my ears, looking toward the door with a cold expression. “Tyler, can we move the wedding up? I want to be your official other half.”
I took her hand, nodding. “Alright.”
