Thanks for having me on to talk about the mum blogger sex tape scandal. I know this won’t make me popular. Not very #womensupportingwomen or any of Scarlett’s other painfully forced hashtags. Sorry, I’m bitching already.
I meant to start by saying that I’m sorry.
No, I am.
Really.
But envy is a difficult emotion to battle, especially when you are as low as I was then.
I still don’t believe that Scarlett wasn’t sleeping with Robert for months, maybe longer. There was someone local. She ticked every box. Everything about it made sense.
Ever since I found that video and realised that it was my friend on there having sex with my partner, I was obsessed.
When he was on a night out, I wondered constantly if he was with her. All I could think about when I was with her was whether she was sleeping with him.
She was beautiful, my friend Scarlett, with that sporty body and the glossy bob. I knew she’d have kept him, if it had been them who’d had a child together, in a way that I couldn’t.
She could have made him stay in and be a dad and get married and make a bit of tea for her when their child had colic and she was weak with hunger. And he would have loved her. In a way that he has never loved me.
I’d cry all the time, angry tears. It was overwhelming, the need to ruin her.
And so I wished terrible things upon her.
I wished terrible things upon her as we were jogging, sipping coffee, eating noodles.
I wished terrible things upon her even as she sat, jigging her tiny daughter up and down on her lap. Yep, you can blow raspberries at a child at the exact same time that you’re wishing misery on their mum.
I wished terrible things upon Scarlett as she drank turmeric bloody lattes instead of coffee when I ordered my third Americano of the morning and as she flung her toned legs up on an Airbnb sofa and as she flirted with people she really shouldn’t have been flirting with. God, she was greedy, Scarlett Salloway, wanted everyone to want her.
Old habits, probably.
Sorry. That was bitchy again.
Anyway, that’s the story. I did it.
But I wasn’t the only one.
There was someone else too.