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TWO-SIDED LOVE TRIANGLE

A few days later, Timmy insists on getting into his old Apple ID so he can ‘download important media.’ He’s fixated—it’s all he can talk about—and it makes me feel sick. The whole purpose of getting rid of that ID was so people couldn’t contact him, including the annoying girl he slept with right before we met. It was his idea in the first place, and it was kind of extreme, but I appreciated the gesture. And now it’s like he’s trying to undo it. What’s so important for him to access in there?

After a rigmarole that consumes our lives for the next week or so, because he manages to lock himself out and neither his cell phone provider nor Apple are able to help him for a while, he finally gets access to his old ID.

There’s immediately a ding, and waiting for him is a text from Desperate Girl, announcing it was her birthday the day before, saying how much she wants to meet me and how happy she is for him that he’s found his soulmate. This is followed up by a picture of the two of them together. Another where she has her arm around Timmy and they’re both smiling.

What gives with this girl?

Timmy told her not to contact him anymore. That he was getting his number changed, and to please respect that. And, less than a month after that conversation, she’s sending attention-seeking texts to a ‘friend’ she knows is engaged. Why would you send a picture of yourself and a guy to that guy when he has a new girlfriend. I can’t trust her as far as I can throw her.

Timmy tries to justify it at first. “Oh, she must have been lonely and just reaching out to friends.”

But I remind him of the boundary he set, asking her not to contact us, and how she had violated his wishes. That, coupled with her reaching out to people on her birthday. Who does that?

He seems to take this at face value. “Yeah, you’re right. I guess that is kind of quite a weird thing to do. Well, I’ll just ignore it. Here you go, see? Deleted. Are you happy now?” He deletes the messages right in front of me.

“As soon as you snap that SIM card,” I say.

“Wait—” he says, frowning, then he shrugs. “Okay, do it.” He hands it to me, looking annoyed and tentative, like there’s something on it that’s really important to him but he can’t quite bring himself to say it.

And I snip that SIM card into tiny little fragments. There’s no way we’re having one more fight about that thing. It was his idea to give up his old number, his old Apple ID, to start afresh, away from his bad influences. But he’s done nothing but make me feel bad for his own decision. Like somehow it’s unfair, that it’s something I demanded he do in the first place. I’m making him stick to his self-imposed boundary, though. No more discussions about this stupid SIM card or Apple ID.

I also don’t live under a rock, and I’m not a complete moron when it comes to technology. And I know, from experience, that some of your contacts are somehow kind of perpetually stored in the cloud, so even if you’ve deleted them, their number can show back up. Plus, he does have social media, so anyone from there could contact him on messenger, or Instagram, or even call him via Facebook.

So I’m feeling a bit defeated. So many fights over something that really is a bit of a non-issue .

And I realize a few things. It’s great that he’s changed his number to avoid certain people reaching out, but his fixation about getting back into that account was way more intense than was normal. Kind of obsessive, even. It’s been all he could talk about for a couple of weeks.

What was in there that was so important, that he decided to disregard but then suddenly needed it back?

I have this weird nagging feeling that there’s more to his relationship with this hideous girl than he’s sharing, or maybe there are others he feels he needs to get in contact with.

It feels like he’s omitting something—that something doesn’t quite add up. But, from experience now, I know that Timmy has a habit of ‘protecting’ me from information he thinks would hurt me. And protecting himself by not sharing information with me that I should probably know, that doesn’t make him look good.

And then there’s just the simple fact that this boils down to trust. There are always ways to betray and lie and deceive, if that’s who you are as a person.

If I can trust this guy, my future fiancé, then I don’t need to worry about who reaches out to him. He’ll always be transparent, like he promised me he would be.

I feel like my trust in Timmy is eroding, that he’s given me reasons already to be working from a low base.

But he also tells me that he’s everything that mirrors what I want in a relationship—a partner who I can trust, and they respect me, and who I can grow together with. I just need to make sure his actions line up with his words.

Later in the week

Timmy takes off while I’m asleep. Simply up and leaves. He’s just gone, no text or anything.

I wake up to an empty bed, and Matty sitting on the couch watching movies. Matty seems to think he’s gone to some drug dealer’ s house, the guy who owns the club we went to when I first moved to the Cay.

It feels so sneaky and underhanded. But when he returns, he makes me feel stupid about it.

“I just wanted to pop down to the Irish bar to see some friends,” he says, nonchalantly.

“You drove to the bar after drinking all day? While I was asleep?”

“Yeah,” he shrugs, a smirk on his face. “What’s your issue?”

I feel like I’m going to explode. Blood pounds in my head and my body hums with discomfort. “It’s inappropriate on so many levels!”

He smirks, a cruel gleam in his eye. “I should be able to go out without you, Margaux.”

“I agree! I should be able to go out without you too.”

He narrows his eyes at the implication.

“But this is something we should be talking about before,” I explain. “This is something we should be planning in advance and setting boundaries. Not taking advantage of someone being asleep to decide you want to go. Who the fuck were you talking to, anyway?”

He shrugs. “Just some friends.”

My eyes narrow. “Girls?”

“No, all guys.” He rolls his eyes. “Man, you’re so jealous and insecure. It’s really unattractive.” His eyes are still narrowed, and he just about spits the word out at me.

Suddenly, I feel like I’m on the back foot. Even though he’s the one who snuck out of the house and went to the bar while I was sleeping.

Is he fucking kidding me? I feel like ripping my hair out.

I’ve gone for a walk in the middle of the day before and he’s accused me of being on a date, even when I’ve told him where I’m going beforehand, and I always reply to his deluge of texts and emails and phone calls the entire time I’m gone.

But I go to sleep and he leaves the property, in a vehicle, intoxicated, and goes to hang out with other unknown intoxicated people? Supposedly at a random bar?

Talk about a double standard .

But he’s drunk, and he’s unable to be reasoned with at the best of times, when it comes to him doing something wrong. When it comes to holding him accountable.

I take a deep breath and a very slow exhale.

This will have to wait until morning.