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Trashley: Part Eight
A friend of a friend
Dating Ashley felt like waking up on a rollercoaster blindfolded, drugged, and naked. And Cecelia was still bombarding me with messages online. I read every DM she sent but never replied. I started checking her Twitter and Instagram regularly, sometimes as much as twenty times a day, in an effort to piece together the puzzle. Ashley and her Mom encouraged me to block Cecelia, but it felt wrong. I wanted Cecelia to know I came in peace, just in case I met their kids someday. I wanted her to see I was a good person.
Ashley met me with anger whenever I brought up the messages, so I learned to tread lightly. “Cecelia wrote me again this morning,” I told Ashley, “She said you’re taking maternity leave when the baby gets here. And that you’re moving to an apartment in Minnesota to help.”
“I told you I don’t want to talk about her, just block her!” Ashley snapped.
My job was starting up in mid-June, and I was leaving for Spain in mid-July for five weeks. Ashley and her Mom said they’d watch Perci while I was gone, so if Ashley was leaving for Minnesota, I needed to know so that Perci wouldn’t be abandoned while I was halfway around the world.
“I’m not moving to Minnesota, stop believing everything she says! Perci’s gonna be fine, just stop.” I pulled back, cautiously trusting…
