I drape my apron over the hook as he clocks in. “Thanks so much Mikey. I’m going to grab some supplies from the pharmacy and go check on him. Call me if you need anything.” I gather up my things, making a mental list of things to make Brad feel better.
I balance the bag of supplies I picked up at the pharmacy on my hip while I unlock the door using the key Brad gave me. It’s crazy to think that in just a few weeks, we will both be living here. I smile, thinking about all the things to come for us. Moving slowly, I shut the door behind me carefully in case he’s sleeping it off. Sliding my shoes off, I set the shopping bag on the floor and make my way through the kitchen to the master bedroom.
I’m halfway down the hallway when I hear giggling coming from the bedroom. My steps falter.Maybe he’s watching TV.My hand lands on the knob and I freeze in place when I hear a familiar voice from the bedroom.
“You’re already hard for me again, babe.” Grating laughter rings out as I try to comprehend what I’m hearing.
My stomach bottoms out.No fucking way this is happening.My body keeps moving forward on its own, even though I am not consciously moving my feet. I can’t get enough air in. The door swings open and my whole-body shudders with disgust and anger at the scene in front of me.
“Shit, Dee. It’s not what it looks like,” Brad says with a panicked look on his face.
I swallow down the rising bile. “Oh good, so that’s not my college best friend in your lap, riding your dick like it’s her favorite pony.”
Bridget buries her face in Brad’s neck as he pulls the sheet up around her protectively. Like modesty andherembarrassment is the biggest issue we are facing right now.
“Oh, for fuck’s sake, I have seen you both naked before. Although never at the same time, so that’s new. If you have anything to be ashamed of, it’s not the actual nudity but the fact that you are fucking each other behind my back. We”—I glare at myexfiance—“are supposed to be getting married, and you . . .” I shift my gaze to Bridget, the fucking traitor. “Youare supposed to be flying in this weekend to help me pick out a dress.” My voice catches as the reality of what’s happening hits me: my fiancé is cheating on me with one of my bridesmaids—my best friend. My whole world feels like it’s crashing down around me in the most horrific fashion.
“I–I’m sorry. I decided to come early. I changed my flight.” Like that explains anything.
A laugh rips out of my chest at the absurdity of her statement. I sound deranged even to me. “Did you come early? Cause I never get to come at all unless I do it myself . . . Fuck!” I yell, stomping my foot before I turn on my heels so fast that it leaves me dizzy. There’s no way in hell I can stand here one more second. I leave the same way I came in, shoving my feet back into my shoes without bothering to untie them.
The sound of Brad padding after me, bare feet smacking against the wood floors, has me straightening up. It takes every ounce of strength I have to hold back the tears that are threatening to fall. I just want to get out of here and get home where I can fall apart in private.
I take an unsteady breath as I turn around. Brad stands there, holding a pillow over his crotch.
“Dee, stay. We can talk about this,” he says, looking anywhere but my eyes.
“Stay? Brad, you’re myfiancéand you’re screwing someone who is supposed to be mybest friend. There’s nothing to say, no reason you can give me that will make any of this okay.”
“I love her, Dee.”
I rear back, his words hit me like a blow to the face. That’s not what I thought he was going to say. Maybe “it was a mistake,” or “it didn’t mean anything,” or how about“you’re the love of my love, please forgive me.”
“Well, congratulations.” I pull the ring from my finger and slap it down on the counter, the sting of the contact barely registering. It’s more Bridget’s style anyway, the large square stone and blinding platinum metal. “Marry her then because I’m sure as hell not marrying you.”
“Dee, don’t do this.” His voice shakes now like he might actually have some remorse over ripping my heart out.
“Stop calling me that. I hate it.” I look down, not able to look at him like this. He doesn’t deserve to act like this hurts him. “How long have you two been together?” I bite each word out, needing to know while equally dreading the answer.
“This time. Three months.” He has the decency to at least sound ashamed.
“This time?” My voice hits an octave I didn’t know was possible. “What does that even mean?”
“We . . . um . . . hooked up in college for a while during your study abroad. I—fuck. I never meant for this to happen. It was supposed to be me and you, but . . .”
I feel the sting of tears trickle down my face. “That’s enough. I can’t, Brad.” I wipe my hand across my cheek and turn to the door, dropping my key on the counter next to my ring as I leave.
It wasn’t always this way. Things used to be so good, but this isn’t the man I fell in love with. He hasn’t been for quite some time and he’s treated me like a doormat for far too long. And I let him get away with it because I’d invested so much time into our relationship.
My dad’s right, I’m too nice for my own good. Brad’s lackluster proposal and near constant inattentiveness these last few months should have been enough to end it.
God, I feel so naive!
When I hit the stairs, I take off running, sucking in deep breaths of air as soon as I hit the sidewalk. I run as hard as I can, pumping my legs like I’m running a 200-meter sprint and not the twelve blocks back to my apartment. By the time I get there, my lungs and legs burn almost as much as my eyes.
I throw myself on the couch and scream into the cushion until my throat is raw and tears stain the fabric. Punching the pillows, I let the anger and hurt flow out of me. But it’s not enough—the screaming, the tears, the hitting, the physical exertion of running—nothing dulls the rage that feels like it’s tearing me limb from limb.
PROLOGUE
