Soft Launch

She never posted me once. Fourteen months. Not one photo.

Her name was Keira. She said she was "private." Didn't like her face online, didn't want her business out there, didn't do "couple content." Fair enough. I respected it. I even liked it, honestly. It felt like we had something that belonged only to us.

I got the occasional crumb. My elbow in a café photo. My hand on a menu. A blurry shadow on a beach, captioned "golden hour." Friends asked, "Who's that?" and she'd just smile.

We broke up in September. Quiet, clean, too tired for a fight. She told me she needed "to figure things out."

Three weeks later, a notification. Keira posted.

A photo. Her, in a field, laughing. And next to her, arm around her waist, a guy in a navy jumper. Fully visible. Fully tagged. Fully proud.

Caption: "Hard launch 🤍"

Day three. They were three days in.

I looked at it for a long time. Every like, every comment. "Finally!!" "You two are adorable!" "So happy for you!!"

My thumb hovered over the tag. His profile had forty-two posts. Dozens of photos of her. Meeting his mum. Brunch. A tiny sunrise selfie, both of them squinting.

Fourteen months, I got a shadow.

Three days, he got a spotlight.

She wasn't private.

I just wasn't someone she wanted to show.