"An affair?!" I howled over the phone at my lead lawyer, Mr Jonas Jill. It was his fervent calls that had woken me up at 7am the following morning. "This is ridiculous! I couldn't seduce a warthog if my life depended on it."
"Ahem, Mrs Farrho, we both know that's not true."
Ha! Tell that to Helen.
I nearly barfed at the slew of hateful comments made against me online. Me! The internet's beloved daughter. I was barely paying any attention to Jonas droning on about the sheer disappointment of me being kicked out of the three year long marriage empty-handed.
"I mean, why?" Jonas asked with an exasperated tone, "Why for the life of me, would you do this?"
"I never cheated on Mikkel. It was actually the other way round. You people have the whole story wrong," I claimed.
"Do you have any proof?"
I was silent. Berate me all you want, I deserved it. In the desire to protect my lifestyle, I had been hindered from seeing the bigger picture. I was a media personality so I had rather narrow options on who to trust but still, a fucking therapist would have sufficed. Jonas was now making a speech of how Mikkel's family background would protect him from my malicious slander.
"Malicious? Slander? I am telling you the truth?"
"I'm your lawyer so you better tell me the actual truth. There's no use denying anything. When you're ready to admit what you've done, then and only then would I be able to help you."
Arrgh! As Jonas ended the call, I felt what was left for me was to gouge out my eyes. But before I could further entertain the thought, my phone rang once more. An unknown caller. I answered, thinking the press had finally gotten a hold of my private number. They always had their ways.
"Whatever you people think I did, I didn't do it. That's my official statement."
"Hahahaha," came a grating laugh. I was disgusted to realize it was just a gloating Helen, not a journalist. She laughed some more. And some more.
"Harharhar! Very funny. Now go laugh into a recorder and listen to yourself or something."
"But what do you mean you didnt do it when you absolutely did it?" Helen asked before I could cut the call. "I have pictures."
My phone pinged with received media files from an unknown number. I opened the first one to see me hugging a man at the club. The man's back was facing the camera, and my entire face was lit up as I leaned against him. That was when it dawned on me.
"You bitch! Did you set me up?"
"That's what you get for upsetting my man."
Oh, so Mikkel was now her man. I pressed the call recording button.
"He was so bothered when you said you were going to divorce him, but I knew they would be no problem if he was the one who had to divorce you first. So I hired people to tail you and spike your drinks and photograph you as you left the club with any man of your choice. Then I posted the pictures and Mikel made an official statement to divorce you. All while you were sleeping off your drunkenness with whatever man I know is in your bed right now."
"There's no man in my bed."
"Liar, unless you've already sent him away." Then, Helen cackled like a literal witch.
"Mikkel's not going to treat you any different," I seethed.
"Oh but he would. I am the reason he always cheated on you after all. I'm the one who sent all those sluts his way. I honestly thought you would divorce him after his first affair so I'd seduce him and marry him but oh well, this turnout is also pretty nice."
"I have just one question, why?"
"Because I fucking hate you. Need I say more?" Then the call ended. I saved the call recording for future purposes and resumed scrolling through the posts about me. My followership was steadily declining. It was mind fucking.
I knew I should stop scrolling but I couldn't help myself. I zoomed on the pictures and wondered what the identity of my alleged affair was.
#howcouldshe #DonnaFarrho #EricDiamonde
A post read: If Eric wasn't gay or something, I'd think Donna's shag was him. Come to think of it, who else can have a back like that?
Then came several posts agreeing with it, and many pictures of Eric Diamonde being compared with the faceless pictures of my alleged affair.
It's the same build.
Same height!
If it wasnt dark, I'd bet it's the same complexion.
Donna bagging Eric??? I'd congratulate her simply for doing the impossible.
Congratulations Donna!
"Eric Diamonde?" I roared, refusing to regard the part where my fans were willing to forgive me if my alleged affair was with Eric Diamonde.
"Eric Diamonde," I repeated with a snort. "Sure, if Eric Diamonde was a warthog! Unbelievable! That man is way out of my league! That cynical ghost! That hater of women! I'd look like ten goddesses and have three cunts and Eric Diamonde would still walk all over me! Eric and me, me and Eric. That's like God and devil. If I had a chance to get with Eric, you think I'd marry Mikkel? I wouldn't marry Mikkel if a warthog wanted me." Then I burst into derisive laughter, amused by my blatant show of battered self esteem. Finally, all my deadly humour was laughed out and I began to calm down.
"Are you done?" came a growl.
"I'm even imagining his voice now," I sighed wryly. "But why would Eric ever want to be an affair? He can marry ten women on the same day and everybody would gush and offer him ten more."
"Do you really think so?"
"Yes yes, I absolutely think so. Now get out of my head."
"More like: get out of my bed."
"Huh. My bed. Now that's a thought for another day," I lazily commented as I turned to examine the other side of the bed because old habits die hard and I always slept on the left side no matter how small the bed was.
But the right side wasn't empty.
"Oh my God," I shuddered.
On the right side of the bed, totally naked, the one and only Eric Diamonde, my alleged affair, was glaring at me.