This is the twentieth part in a series, so if you have not already done so, you might want to read Part I, Part II, Part III, Part IV, Part V, Part VI, Part VII, Part VIII, Part IX, Part X, Part XI, Part XII, Part XIII, Part XIV, Part XV, Part XVI, Part XVII, Part XVIII, and Part XIX before continuing.
When I finally realized how I could get insight into Owen’s dating history, I almost slapped myself for not having seen it right away.
Beatrice.
Unfortunately, I had burned that bridge. I wouldn’t be able to ask her directly, and I doubted I would be able to ask any invasive questions of her friends. They had all iced me out.
That left a spy’s best friend: social media.
I crossed my fingers and hoped she hadn’t blocked me on social media. I pumped my fist in celebration when I clicked on her Instagram profile to find I could still see all her photos. Then I quickly started scrolling for clues.
The most recent photos were all of her hanging out with her girlfriends with hashtags that weren’t exactly man-hating, but definitely made it obvious she had recently been dumped.
Before that there were photos of her and Owen together, although not as many as I would have thought. I know they hadn’t dated for a long time, but as soon as I start dating anyone, I always make sure to plaster it all over social media. What’s the point of having a boyfriend if you can’t use it to make yourself appear more desirable?
Finally, I found what I was looking for. A post from last fall talking about how it was her brother’s birthday and how much she still missed him, even years after his death.
Oof. A dead brother would be hard to top.
But at least now I knew what Owen’s dad had meant when he talked about damage.
I searched my brain for something I could use to cast myself as a damsel in distress. I considered talking about the fight I had had with my best friend from high school that had resulted in the breakdown of our friendship. That had been pretty traumatizing at the time, but it wouldn’t be enough. Beatrice’s “damage” had come from her family. It was part of who she was. It wasn’t something as transient as a friendship. I would need something equally devastating if I was going to have any hope of maintaining Owen’s interest.
When I first landed on the solution, I didn’t like it. It hit too close to home. Then again, weren’t the best lies based in truth?
After deliberating back and forth for the better part of a week, I decided to go for it. It was time to go big or go home. And I wasn’t about to go home.
To be continued …