She thrust her phone toward me and there, splashed across the screen, was a series of photos of Darrel and Natalie. In one shot, he was holding a bouquet of flowers and smiling down at her as she looked up at him adoringly. Another showed him helping her rearrange furniture, his hands on her shoulders as she gazed at him with wide, doe-like eyes. Beneath the photos was a caption from Natalie:
“Every hardship I faced led me to meet Mr.Darrel. He says that as long as I have him, I won’t ever need a boyfriend.”
The comments beneath were nauseatingly sycophantic.
“Wow! Mr. Darrel is clearly smitten with her! Who’d be so sweet and dedicated to someone they weren’t head-over-heels for?”
“Guess those rumors about Darrel being distant with women were wrong—he just hadn’t found the right one! Lucky girl!”
I felt a sharp twist of pain in my chest as I stared at those photos, his arm around her, the way he looked at her so openly, so proudly. Every comment only confirmed what I’d long suspected but had been too afraid to admit.
In all those years, he’d never once made our relationship public. Never once had he looked at me that way.