By Liv N. Large
Sarah Thompson, a woman known for her perpetually scattered state, accidentally sparked a heated discussion on toxic relationships, complicated family dynamics, and the nature of betrayal… when all she’d actually done was join the wrong Zoom meeting.
Sarah, intending to hop onto her weekly wine-and-whine session with friends, found herself amidst a group of earnest strangers discussing the latest literary sensation. Rather than confessing her error, a cocktail-fueled boldness took over.
“I knew Jacob was no good,” she declared, interrupting a meticulous analysis of the protagonist’s questionable life choices. “The red flags were there from the start! He’s gaslighting her, plain and simple.”
The book club members, initially startled, soon found themselves drawn into Sarah’s passionate recounting of her own relationship woes. The fact that “Jacob” was actually her ex-boyfriend and the gaslighting involved a questionable choice of houseplant did little to deter their enthusiasm.
“That sounds like classic narcissistic behavior,” offered one member, nodding sagely.
“She needs to set boundaries, stat!” declared another.
With every sip of wine, Sarah’s story grew wilder and more tangled. Soon, she was spilling secrets about her meddling mother-in-law, a disastrous double date, and a suspicious discovery involving a gym bag and a pair of suspiciously sequined panties.
Meanwhile, the book club members were scribbling notes furiously. “This is brilliant character development,” someone murmured. “Such raw emotion!”
“The gym bag incident – pure symbolism!” exclaimed another.
It was only when Sarah began choking back sobs, detailing a particularly dramatic breakup scene at a grocery store checkout line, that a lone voice of reason emerged.
“Wait a minute…,” said a bespectacled woman, adjusting her webcam. “Isn’t this book supposed to be a historical thriller set in the Napoleonic Era?”
A stunned silence fell over the virtual gathering. Sarah, her face burning, slowly exited the meeting. The book club, faced with the sobering truth, shared a baffled and slightly concerned look.
The next morning, Sarah awoke with a killer hangover and a vague sense of mortification. Emails from worried friends and a hastily deleted, apology-laden post on the local “Missed Connections” forum confirmed that her accidental book club foray had become the stuff of local legend.
Despite the embarrassment, Sarah couldn’t help but see the humor. Maybe her next book club attempt would stick to fiction- where the betrayals were on the page, and the most scandalous affair involved a brooding aristocrat and a stolen letter.
Polly Tickle