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“You know what I mean!”
We glare one another down. And then she snatches up the wine bottle and strides away from the table toward the stairs. “I’ll be spending the rest of the evening in my room.”
When I start to follow her, she turns around and glares at me. “Alone.”
The word rings out in the room, stopping me in my tracks.
I’m left dumbfounded as she and her gorgeous, swaying hips stomp away from me.
Chapter Six
LAUREN
The gall of that man! God. Guy. Whatever.
To think I’d just open up and spill my guts cause he said so. Hypocritical bastard! I knew he was too good to be true.
I take another long swallow of the wine. And then giggle. I know it’s got to be some sort of sin to swill wine this expensive. The last time I drank wine straight from the bottle, it was Two Buck Chuck. I’d just dramatically stomped out of my boyfriend’s apartment, which we shared, with a suitcase full of my shit and gone to a hotel.
Which I could only afford for one night.
But that one night, I got drunk off my ass, promised myself I deserved so much better, and swore that things could only look up from there. Right?
Ha.
Hahahahahahahahaha.
I moved back in with my mom after racking up a week at the hotel on my credit card and coming to my senses that I had nowhere else to go. After a month with her, I was back at my cheating ex’s door, begging for another chance because I was so miserable with her. I figured maybe a nice-ish cheater with a three-bedroom in Uptown was better than my childhood bedroom and a hateful mother tearing into me every time I walked into the kitchen.
Lemme tell you, I thought that was rock bottom.
Nope.
Rock bottom was learning he’d already moved the new bitch into the master bedroom and thrown out the rest of my shit when I didn’t come back for it after a week. We’d been together seven years.
Seven years and all I got was a heartless boot to the curb when he upgraded.
Oh, and did I tell you? The cherry on top of that shit Sunday? I worked at his company doing everything from books to marketing and advertising and even dropped out of college to help before getting more and more drawn in. But on paper, I’d only ever be an Administrative Assistant. And with all the names I called him upon finding I’d been replaced with a skinnier, younger New Bitch, I knew there was no way I’d get a reference letter, so yeah.
Here I am.
Twenty-eight. Unemployed. No degree. Living with my mom because I’d been stupid enough to let some asshole use me up and toss me out.
No, I do not want to tell the handsome new guy who’s swooped in and carried me away about my shitty past.
I take another swallow, whining when the last of the liquid runs into my mouth and there isn’t anymore. I shake the bottle over my gaping mouth, only to elicit a few more drops. Then I roll over on the bed.
I’m doing such a bang-up job of not repeating history.
A handsome, obvious wreck of a guy shows up asking for volunteers to be swept up, and what bitch is all, I volunteer as tribute! Ding ding ding, ladies and gentlemen. Me.
I’m pretty sure my therapist would say something annoying and wise like, Well, if you start to notice a pattern in your behavior, maybe that’s something worth paying attention to.
Can I help it if I’m attracted to assholes?
I grab a pillow and yank it over my face, screaming into it.
Sometimes, we’re attracted to the most familiar dynamics. Again, my therapist’s voice. I drag the pillow away from my face.
