Love On The Cliff

Because we were broke, Ben never talked about getting married. Then one day I saw him casually pop open a bottle of wine that cost more than my entire paycheck. Turns out Ben was a trust fund kid, living it up like a king.

His buddy asked, “You gonna keep up this ‘poor dude‘ act? When you gonna cash out?”

Ben just shrugged, not even looking up from his phone, “Guess I’ll ditch it when I get engaged.”

I didn’t lose it right then and there. It wasn’t until the day of his engagement party that my plane took off, heading far, far away. Later, I heard that the big shot Ben decided to pull a 180 at his own party. He ditched it all and sped over to our old, run–down apartment. And when he found it empty, he completely lost his mind.

I was scrolling through Instagram when a picture caught my eye. Past the bright, shiny people in the foreground, there was this guy slouched on a couch, head down, messing with his phone.

One hand was propped up, hiding most of his face, but you could still see his sharp nose and those deep–set eyebrows. I hesitated a few times, then clicked open the pictures I had of Ben, comparing them side–by- side.

Then, I messaged my old college acquaintance, Tiffany, who I barely even knew.

[Hey, is that your friend in that picture?]

I sent the photo, the one where I’d circled his face. I don’t know why, but she’d put some weird blur effect right on him. Tiffany replied quick, quicker than I thought she would.

[Why you asking about him? Stay away, he’s trouble.]

I replied, [No way, it just looks kinda like my boyfriend.]

It was too similar. No one knew Ben like I did, I could draw the exact curve of his frown.