Chapter 36
Daniella
Imisshim.
As ironic as that may seem, I fucking misshim.
Is it possible to love and hate someone at the sametime?
I’m thinking, yes: my heart loves while my mind is swimming with anger andhurt.
Part of me wishes he’d come rescue me—like a scene in one of those sappy romanceflicks.
And honestly, if he’d just tell me we can wait as long as I’d like before we marry, then I’d know it’s not about the money. Then I’d know he does indeed loveme.
But that’s a chapter people read at the end of fairytales.
Fake shit like that doesn’t happen inreallife.
Not mylife.
I’ve had a few days to think. Come up with a plan. And I’ve decided to leave. Pack up my stuff and start anew. I’ve got money saved up from working for Stacy, plus the money I earned working for Antonio. There’s a fabulous position in Paris, working for the renowned Lauren Blake, and I took a chance and emailed her assistant, and Lauren got back to me right away. She remembers my work at New York Fashion Week when I was in design school, and she’d be delighted if I joined her design team. My flight leaves tomorrownight.
Stacy and Emma are sad but still excited for me. And both have begged me to give Antonio a chance, yet my mind is madeup.
Paris is calling, and there, I can startfresh.
No TMZ. No Antonio. No Heart-BreakingLies.
Stacy has agreed to reach out to Antonio and ask him to pack up my belongings, and she’ll send them to me once I’m settled in France. I’ve arranged to stay in a charming flat with a woman called Annika who works for Lauren Blake. It’s temporary, but at least it’s astart.
I’m even getting a puppy. I hear a dog’s love is unconditional. And I’m in need of a good dose ofthat.
I’ll say my good-byes to Stacy and Emma tomorrow, but tonight, I’ll justchill.
Room Service. Bubble Bath.Sleep.
I even ordered a bottle of wine to go with mymeal.
And finally, a knock on the door. Room service hasarrived.
I unlock the door and fling itopen.
And yes! It is room service with a cart full of kiss-my-sorry-ass-sadness-awaygoodness.
Pizza. Chocolate Cake.Wine.
I pour myself a glass of wine even before the server sets my tray down on thetable.
“Anything else,Miss?”
“Nope. That’s it. Thankyou.”
I give him a tip. He smiles and offers his appreciation, then pushes the serving cart toward the door. And when I open the door for him, my mouthdrops.
Antonio.
What. The.Hell.
