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“Okay. Now I’m officially on a manhunt to get my ring. If you see him, hold him down and call me. Okay?”
He gives me a thumbs up. “You got it.”
Not willing to give up on my search just yet, I go outside again, and that’s when my phone beeps. Thinking it might be Gabriel, I waste no time getting it out.
There’s a message, and it’s from him.
“A secret venue perhaps,” I think aloud and then gasp. “Why didn’t I think of that before? Of course, he’d want to do it in a special, romantic way.”
I open the message, but the content that meets my eyes is not what I expected. My hands tremble as I read through again, and my phone falls.
My knees grow weak, and I slowly crumble to the ground, as my mind struggles to wrap around what I just read. I pick up my phone again, telling myself that maybe I read it wrong.
Maybe I read too much into it. There must be some reason why the man I love, the person who is supposedly planning a proposal, sends me a text saying—
“I’ll have my PR team leak to the press tomorrow that we’ve broken off our engagement. Don’t worry, I’ll tell them that it was because I cheated so that you don’t get any heat.
Thank you for the past few months,
Gabriel Everhart.”
What the hell?
Where does he get off making these decisions on his own?
My fingers race across the screen as I find the Facetime audio button and I tap on it. His number rings for a couple of seconds before it stops. When I call the second time, it tells me that his number is switched off.
“No, no,” I shake my head, battling disbelief. “There’s no way he meant it. It must be a prank, or someone stole his phone. We were…we had something,” I mutter to myself, running my hands through my hair.
The moment we shared that night at the club before we had sex for the first time, the sexual chemistry, the laughter we shared, the times we spent together.
He confessed his feelings for me, and I told him I left the same. Every moment—from my dog to spending time alone talking about everything from his life to my parents—
All of that was what?
Friendly interactions?
I might have limited dating experience, having only dated a few other men before Gabriel came into my life, but I am not stupid. I saw the signs everywhere, even when I was second-guessing my feelings.
And now he says he’s going to tell the papers that we broke up? Thank you for the past few months?
What the hell!? Was I the only one feeling this way, wanting something more from us? If it’s true, then Gabriel needs an Oscar award for the best acting of all time, and I…I am stupid for buying it.
Disbelief graduates to anger, and I head to my car, getting in it, and tearing out of the parking lot. I get on the highway and just drive until I end up at a bar.
“Anything that’ll knock me out,” I slap a large bill on the counter.
The bartender nods and gets to work. I don’t ask him what’s in the shot glass when he brings it, only knocking it back and almost gagging when my throat lights up with a thousand molten rockets.
He offers me some water and a look of apology.
“Sorry. Would you like something milder? Whiskey with chaser?”
“Yeah,” I wipe the drops that spilled down my chin. “Thanks.”
I don’t know how many shots I drink as I sit at the counter, perched on a long stool, but I feel a hand on my shoulder after a while.
When I see Mira, my eyes tear up, and she wraps me into her arms without asking questions. I cry some more—big tears pouring down my cheeks, and she pats my hair and rubs my back until I’m able to pull myself together again.
