I shouldn’t laugh but I do anyway. Not because the article is accurate but because strangers always seem so certain about the lives of people they’ve never known.
Curiosity gets the better of me and before I can stop myself I open the comments.
Some people are already comparing the airport photograph to the one from the gala, pointing out the way Hector carries my luggage without making a performance of it. Others insist they’ve seen him before, though none of them can agree where. A few dismiss him as another temporary headline.
One comment catches my attention.
She looks happier with him than she ever did with her ex.
I go back to the photograph. The commenter isn’t talking about Hector. They’re talking about me.
I study my own face for a long moment. No carefully rehearsed smile.
