Sleep wouldn't come. I tossed and turned for hours, that forum post burning in my mind like a brand.
No. I'm not letting this go.
I sat up, grabbed my phone, and started typing a reply of my own.
"Oh, he 'can't sleep' because he's thinking about some young girl? That's not insomnia—that's obsession. The kind that keeps you up at night scratching at your own chest."
"He 'enjoys' going on business trips with her? Please. He's just looking for excuses to get his hands on her when no one's watching."
"And she 'confessed' to him? Don't flatter yourself. You couldn't keep it in your pants, so you harassed her until she couldn't take it anymore."
"The truth is, she reported him. That's why the company fired him. That's why his reputation is in the gutter. End of story."
I hit post and let out a breath I didn't know I'd been holding. For the first time in weeks, something in my chest unclenched.
The comments exploded.
"Wait... this actually makes way more sense."
"Oh my God, is THIS the real story?"
"I knew it! No man is that perfect. Finding a decent guy is harder than finding a three-legged toad, and this one's a fraud!"
Screenshots spread. Shares multiplied. Likes poured in.