Less than five minutes after the post, Flynn, who had followed me on Instagram for years, sent me a message for the first time: "Is she with you?"
I didn't reply and closed the app.
A minute later, he called. After some hesitation, I answered. But I didn't make it easy for him. "Who is this?"
"It's Flynn. Luna, why didn't Queenie tell me she's with you? Do you have any idea how hard I've been looking for her? I've searched the entire city inside out," he roared through the phone. My ears stung slightly from it.
Who did Flynn think he was? How dare he shout at me? Did he believe that every woman was like Queenie, willing to forgive him for all his wrongdoings?
"Flynn, you'd better tone down that temper. I don't owe you anything and won't fall for your tricks. You even have a child with another woman! Who are you to yell at Queenie? What's with the act?
"This is the first time I've cursed someone, Flynn. Are you fucking crazy? Why do you think you can just walk all over Queenie? And you still have the nerve to blame others? Why didn't I realize how much of a pathetic excuse you were? You're worse than scum!" I yelled and cursed.
Flynn was taken aback by my outburst and fell silent. When he started speaking again, his tone had obviously softened. "I have my reasons for that. And I'll explain to Queenie. I'm sure she'll understand. Please, Luna. Tell me where Queenie is. I want to find her and get her back."
"Have you ever thought about it from Queenie's perspective? If Queenie had a child with another man and begged to talk it out with you, would you forgive her?
"Would you be able to act as if nothing had happened and accept her for who she was? Would you love her child as your own? Would you still love her as deeply as before?" I sneered.
Flynn fell silent.
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