🌶️ Sue’s After Dark Diaries – Episode 37

The Night My Phone Betrayed Me

It Started With Sharon (Which Was My First Mistake)

There are very few moments in life where you feel your soul physically leave your body.

This was one of them.

It started, as most catastrophes do, with Sharon.

“Send me a picture,” she said.

Now, in any other friendship, this would be a harmless request. Casual. Innocent. Possibly even normal.

However, this is Sharon.

And nothing involving Sharon is ever casual, innocent, or remotely normal.

To be clear, she wasn’t asking for just any picture.

She was asking for that kind of picture.

“For research,” she added.

“Whose research?” I asked.

“My friend,” she said. “She’s been active for over a year, and I’m telling you now, yours is the exact situation she’s been looking for.”

I paused.

“That sentence raises more questions than it answers.”

“Just send it,” she insisted.

And this, in hindsight, was the moment I should have said no.

Firmly.

Decisively.

Instead, I said, “Fine, but this never leaves the chat.”

Which, again, was optimistic.

At best.

Because when Sharon is involved, boundaries are more of a suggestion than a rule.

And I should have known that.

I absolutely should have known that.

A Photo That Should Never Have Existed

To be clear, this was not a spontaneous situation.

There was thought.

There was positioning.

There was a brief moment when I questioned my life choices as I adjusted the lighting, as if I were preparing for a magazine shoot no one had asked for.

Dan was involved.

Which already tells you everything you need to know.

“Right,” I muttered. “This is purely informational.”

Dan, as always, offered no feedback.

Unhelpful.

I took the photo.

Looked at it.

Immediately regretted having eyes.

“Too much?” I asked out loud.

Dan hummed faintly.

Not helpful.

Not reassuring.

Just… present.

I adjusted slightly.

Took another.

Worse.

“Why am I like this?” I whispered.

From the bed, Benji lifted his head briefly, looked at me, and then very deliberately rested it back down like he wanted no part in whatever this was becoming.

“Don’t judge me,” I told him.

He blinked.

Judged me.

Fairly.

Eventually, I settled on one that felt… less catastrophic.

Not good.

But survivable.

“This is fine,” I said.

It was not fine.

The Send That Ended Everything

The plan was simple.

Send to Sharon.

Receive inappropriate encouragement.

Delete immediately.

Move on with what little dignity remained.

Instead…

I clicked.

I sent.

I sipped my wine.

And then, because my brain occasionally wakes up just in time to ruin my life, I looked down at my phone.

Not Sharon.

Mark.

There was a pause.

A long, hollow, echoing pause.

The kind where time slows down, and your ancestors collectively sigh.

I stared at the screen.

He was online.

Of course he was.

Why wouldn’t he be?

“Right,” I said out loud.

“Okay.”

This is fixable.

This is absolutely fixable.

Step one: panic internally.

Step two: open the chat.

Step three: attempt to unsend.

The message remained.

Staring back at me.

Unmoved.

Unbothered.

Committed to the chaos.

I pressed “delete for everyone.”

Nothing.

“Oh, good,” I whispered.

“So we’re doing this properly then.”

Mark Responds (And Makes It Worse)

My phone buzzed.

Mark:
“Well.”

I froze.

Closed my eyes.

I considered moving country.

Possibly changing my name.

My phone buzzed again.

Mark:
“I see the strong male presence has made an appearance.”

I choked on my wine.

This was not happening.

This was absolutely not happening.

I stared at the screen.

Typed something.

Deleted it.

Typed again.

Deleted that too.

There was no correct response to this situation.

Only variations of disaster.

Eventually, I settled on:

“Wrong chat.”

I sent it.

Immediately hated myself.

Mark replied.

“I gathered.”

Pause.

“Still… bold move.”

Bold.

BOLD.

I threw my phone onto the sofa like it had personally betrayed me.

From the dresser, Dan hummed faintly.

“Oh, don’t start,” I told him.

Because apparently not only had my phone betrayed me—

…but my entire personal life had now been professionally documented.

Sharon Is No Help Whatsoever

At that exact moment, Sharon messaged.

“WHERE IS IT???”

I stared at the screen.

Then typed:

“You don’t want it.”

Her reply was immediate.

“I ABSOLUTELY DO.”

I took a deep breath.

“I sent it to Mark.”

There was a pause.

Then…

“HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA”

No concern.

No sympathy.

Just chaos.

She called immediately.

I answered against my better judgment.

“I AM OBSESSED,” she screamed.

“This is the worst thing that’s ever happened to me,” I said flatly.

“No,” she replied. “This is the BEST thing that’s ever happened to you.”

“I’ve sent a private photo to a man who knows Dan by name.”

“Exactly,” she said. “There’s history. This is layered.”

“I don’t want layers,” I snapped. “I want to disappear.”

“You are not disappearing,” she said firmly. “You are owning this.”

“I am not owning this.”

“You absolutely are.”

And somehow…

I knew she was going to make me.

Mark Gets Flirty (Which Is Deeply Unhelpful)

My phone buzzed again.

Mark.

Of course, it was Mark.

“I have to say,” he wrote, “that’s a confident message to send midweek.”

I stared at it.

Midweek.

As if timing was the issue.

“Accidental,” I typed.

Pause.

Deleted it.

Typed again.

“Clearly meant for Sharon.”

Sent.

Immediately regretted it.

Mark replied almost instantly.

“I assumed.”

Pause.

“Still… interesting choice of audience.”

I narrowed my eyes at the screen.

“Oh, he’s enjoying this,” I muttered.

Dan hummed.

Agreeing.

Unhelpfully.

Another message.

“Should I be impressed or slightly concerned?”

I exhaled slowly.

“Impressed,” I typed.

Pause.

“No, wait… concerned.”

Deleted.

Started again.

“Let’s go with neutral confusion.”

Sent.

Mark replied.

“I don’t do neutral.”

Pause.

“Also… I appreciate the trust.”

Trust?

TRUST?

This man was turning my humiliation into flirtation.

And worse…

It was working.

Sharon Pushes It Further (Obviously)

“What’s he saying?” Sharon demanded.

“He’s being calm,” I said.

“OH THAT’S WORSE,” she shouted.

“I know.”

“What did you say?”

“Something neutral.”

“Why would you be neutral?” she snapped. “This is not a neutral situation.”

“I’m trying to regain control.”

“You lost control the moment you hit send.”

Fair.

“Right,” she continued. “New plan.”

“No,” I said immediately.

“You flirt.”

“I will not flirt.”

“You absolutely will.”

“I’ve just accidentally sent him a picture involving Dan.”

“Exactly,” she said. “The ice is already broken.”

“That is not ice,” I replied. “That is my dignity.”

“Same thing,” she said dismissively.

I sighed.

Deeply.

Because somehow…

Again…

She wasn’t entirely wrong.

Benji Intervenes (Sort Of)

At this point, Benji reappeared.

Slowly.

Suspiciously.

Carrying something.

I frowned.

“Is that…”

It was.

Mark’s boxers.

Of course it was.

“Where did you even get those?” I asked.

Benji dropped them at my feet.

Looked up at me.

And then…

Just stared.

That look.

That very specific look that said:

“I am aware of everything happening here, and I do not approve.”

“This is not helpful,” I told him.

He blinked.

Judged me.

Fairly.

Again.

I picked up the boxers.

Sighed.

“This is a lot,” I muttered.

From the dresser…

Dan hummed.

Because of course he did.

The Conversation Turns (And I Panic Slightly Less)

Mark messaged again.

“So,” he said.

“Are we pretending this didn’t happen, or are we acknowledging it properly?”

I stared at the screen.

This was a test.

Clearly.

“I feel like acknowledging it is risky,” I typed.

Sent.

He replied.

“I feel like ignoring it is impossible.”

Pause.

Fair.

Another message.

“Also… for what it’s worth…”

I waited.

“…I’m not complaining.”

I blinked.

“Oh no,” I said out loud.

Because now…

This was no longer just damage control.

This was… something else.

Something dangerously close to flirting.

Again.

And worse…

I wasn’t entirely opposed.

The Date That Wasn’t Planned (But Definitely Happened)

“What if,” Sharon said slowly, “you just lean into it?”

“I don’t like where this is going.”

“You ask him out.”

“I absolutely do not.”

“You absolutely do,” she insisted. “He’s already halfway there.”

I hesitated.

Looked at my phone.

Then back at Benji.

Then at Dan.

“This feels like a terrible idea,” I said.

Dan hummed.

Encouragingly.

“Fine,” I muttered.

I typed.

“Drinks. Soon. In a normal setting. With clothes.”

I stared at it.

Panicked.

Sent it.

Immediately regretted everything.

Mark replied.

“Define normal.”

Pause.

“Because I feel like we’ve already skipped that part.”

I laughed.

Despite myself.

Which was concerning.

Then…

“I’d like that,” he added.

And just like that…

It was happening.

The Twist (Because Of Course There Is One)

Just as I was beginning to regain a sense of control—

My phone buzzed again.

Sharon.

“I FOUND IT.”

“What?”

“The picture.”

My stomach dropped.

“What do you mean you found it?”

“My friend already has one EXACTLY like it.”

Pause.

“What?”

“Yeah,” she said. “Apparently it’s… not as rare as we thought.”

I froze.

Looked at Dan.

Then back at my phone.

“So,” I said slowly.

“You’re telling me…”

“That I’ve accidentally sent Mark something that is apparently part of a wider category?”

“…yes.”

I sat down.

Heavily.

“Well,” I said.

“That’s deeply humbling.”

From the dresser…

Dan hummed.

Unbothered.

Of course he was.

Aftermath (And No Lessons Learned)

I leaned back on the sofa.

Exhausted.

Confused.

Mildly impressed with myself.

“Well,” I said.

“That escalated.”

Benji curled up beside me.

Still judging.

Still correct.

I glanced at my phone.

At Mark’s messages.

On the date I had somehow agreed to.

At the entire situation.

Then at Dan.

“Some things,” I said slowly, “cannot be undone.”

Pause.

“But… some things might actually work out.”

Dan hummed.

Confident.

Reliable.

And honestly…

after everything…

still the least complicated part of my life.

Which says a lot.

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