* * *
I spent that evening at home—alone. I was on my second glass of wine when I decided to look up Rowan online. I'd applauded myself for not going sleuthing before this evening. But apparently tonight my self-control lost the battle against morbid curiosity.
To my annoyance, I didn't find much. He wasn't on i********:. He had an old LinkedIn profile that hadn't been updated since he'd left AppVille. No Twitter account, either. When I found his f*******: profile, I was surprised he even had an account.
His f*******: profile had a few posts from three, four, five years ago posted by Rowan himself. I tried to find any evidence that he'd dated Melanie, but there was nothing. Just photos of hikes he'd taken and beer festivals he'd attended. If he'd ever posted about his relationship with
