Seven years.
Seven years of James and Sara building something they both swore was forever through the broke months when the lights almost got cut, through the fights about who spent what, through every “we’re done” that never actually stuck.
Trust was the one thing they kept popping up with them.
So when Sara said, “Let’s do something that we said we would never do. Let’s just check each other’s phones, no secrets, no bullshit,” James didn’t even flinch.
“Bet,” he said, sliding his code in and handing it over with confidence. “Good luck.”
James decided to go first, with sarah phone.
James scrolled through Sara’s text messages, her photos, her Instagram DMs. Clean. Boring, even. A few group chats about brunch, a couple of memes, nothing that made his stomach drop.
He handed the phone back feeling like a man who just watched his girl ace a test he didn’t even study for.
“See?” she said. “Told you.”
“Yeah, yeah. My turn.”
James’s phone felt heavier in her hand than it should have. She started with texts messages they were normal at first, work stuff, a group chat with his coworkers.
Then she hit a thread with somebody saved as Bruce.
She stopped scrolling.
“James.” Her tone had changed. “Who is Bruce, and why do y’all got a whole conversation going about” she looked up at him, “about dicks?”
James didn’t even look up from the TV. “Inside joke, baby.”
“Inside joke.” She said. She kept going. She shouldn’t have kept going. But over seven years of being in a relationship with that person gives you the right to keep going.
Then she hit his camera roll.
Her thumb froze mid-scroll. Her whole face changed.
“James.” Quiet this time. Dangerous quiet. “Why you got this many pictures on your phone that all look the same kind of way?”
He came around the couch fast. “Sara, chill, it’s not what you think”.
“Don’t tell me to chill.” She was standing now, phone gripped tightly in her hand.
“Seven years, James. Seven. I let you go through my whole life two minutes ago and you was in here with a whole folder of shit you ain’t say nothing about.”
“It’s a prank,” he said. “Me and Bruce been running this bit for months, we send fake stuff to people trying to scam folks online, it’s a whole…”
“A prank.” She wasn’t even blinking.
“Explain it to me like I’m slow, James. Because right now all I know is my fiancé got a photo album that would make the whole LGBQT community blush, and a best friend named Bruce who’s real comfortable in those texts messages.”
The room went quiet except for the TV neither of them was watching.
“Sara—”
“Don’t.” She set the phone down on the counter, slow, deliberate, like she was setting down something that might go off.
“You got exactly one shot to make this make sense. And it better be good, James. It better be realgood.”
He opened his mouth.
She held up a hand.
“Think real hard before you answer.”
To be continued…