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“Yes. It absolutely was. But I’ve never seen him like this, Belle. Not even when that bitch Kayla broke his heart. Back then, he was just pissed. Now, he’s . . .”

I hold my breath, waiting for PJ to continue.

He lets out a loud sigh, glancing over at me when he comes to a stop sign.

“Now, he’s just blah.”

I look at him in confusion.

“Blah? What the hell does that even mean?”

“It means blah!” PJ replies in frustration. “He’s not pissed, he’s not sad, he’s just . . . nothing. He doesn’t give a shit about anything. He comes to work and he does his job, but he doesn’t care. Eric and I went over to his house a couple of nights ago for an intervention, and he just sat in his library, staring at the shelves, not saying a word. He’s hurting.”

“You don’t think I’m hurting too? He broke my heart, PJ. I trusted him and he broke that trust,” I remind him, swallowing back the lump in my throat.

I finally managed to go one full day without crying and I’m not about to start again now or I’ll never stop. He used me, plain and simple. Sure, maybe somewhere along the way he really did start to like me, but he still asked me to move in with him under false pretenses, and he let something develop between us, something I thought was real and good and amazing. But it was all built on one big lie because he needed something from me.

“One of the best things about you is that you believe in fairy tales. You believe in love and happily ever after. At least, you used to. There’s no reason for you not to believe again. He can give all of those things to you if you just let him,” PJ tells me softly. “People make mistakes. Sometimes people make big mistakes. You don’t really seem like the type of person who would hold a grudge and never forgive someone. Especially someone who changed everything about himself for you. Who was screwed over by a woman once before and yet still took a chance on you, believing that you wouldn’t do the same thing. Look at everything you’ve done with your life these last few months. You moved out on your own, you successfully started a stripping business with new friends, you found a guy who was real and wasn’t just part of a story in a book. You took chances. You took risks. Take it from me, there’s nothing more rewarding than the risk of falling in love. Sometimes you hit a few roadblocks along the way, but it’s always worth it in the end.”

I don’t say another word to PJ as he drives me the rest of the way to Ariel’s house, aside from thanking him for being my bodyguard for the night. Maybe what he said was true, but if it was, why hasn’t Vincent tried to contact me? Aside from the couple of missed calls the day I left, he hasn’t called again. If he’s hurting so much and feels so blah, why hasn’t he tried to tell me that himself? I know I’m not the type of woman who never forgives someone or who holds a grudge forever. And even though I’ll deny it to anyone who asks, a part of me still wants that happy ending. A piece of me still hopes for it and wishes for it. But you can’t exactly have a happy ending when the man who can give it to you doesn’t even want to try.

Crawling under the covers in Ariel’s spare bedroom after washing off my performance makeup and changing into comfortable pajamas, I spend the night tossing and turning, PJ’s words refusing to go away or let me sleep.

* * *

The bright sun shining through the window wakes me up entirely too early, considering I didn’t manage to fall asleep until an hour or two before dawn.

Rolling over with a groan, I grab my phone from the nightstand and dial my dad’s number, thinking that after everything I’ve lost recently, at least I still have him, and hopefully he’ll want to go to breakfast with me and cheer me up.

“Can’t talk right now, Belle,” my father answers without a greeting. “Little busy here.”

So much for that idea.

I hear a woman shouting in the background and quickly sit up in bed.

“Is that Ariel? Why are you with Ariel?” I question, flinging the covers off, racing out of the room and across the hall to Ariel’s room, which is empty.

“Your friends are a delight!” my father announces happily. “I’m sorry I misjudged them. I’m sorry I misjudged you, ladies!”

“We forgive you! Step on it, Silver Fox! We’ve got shit to do!”

“Is that Cindy too? Dad! What are you guys doing?”

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