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“Go fuck yourself.”
I turn and walk to my room, slamming the door behind me. I’m so mad that tears begin to well in my eyes.
I can’t believe he’s even justifying treating me like that. He didn’t say one word to me for two hours while he chatted up another woman, for Christ’s sake.
I hear the front door slam and then his car start. I rush to the window and see him driving off like a madman on the loose.
He’s gone back out.
I flop onto the bed and swipe the angry tears away from my eyes.
His words ring through my head.
This isn’t a relationship.
No shit, Sherlock. This isn’t a relationship, this is a train wreck.
Chapter Fifteen
An hour has passed, and I?
?m still on my bed, staring at the ceiling. Just how did I get myself into this situation? What did I honestly think was going to come of going out with Julian Masters?
When we were at the hotel and it was just the two of us, things were safe. It was controlled.
It didn’t hurt.
I take out my phone and flick through Instagram and Facebook to try and take my mind off how shitty I’m feeling. Nothing works.
I throw my phone down in disgust. Ugh. I hate Facebook. It should be called Fakebook the way every idiot in the world posts pictures and shows off how good their lives are. All their gorgeous, caring boyfriends and husbands, babies, kids, they all seem to have everything I don’t. You never see anyone posting pictures saying ‘Oh, I went out with my older boss tonight, who, by the way, treated me like I was a stupid slut and embarrassed the hell out of me’ do you? I roll my eyes
Fake fuckers.
My phone beeps and I scramble to read the message from my mum.
Hi, Brell,
How’s everything?
We’re missing you.
I read it and tears fill my eyes. Before I even think about it, I’m dialing her number. She answers on the first ring.
“Hello, my beautiful Brell.”
“Hi, Mum.” The sound of her loving voice gets to me, and I instantly choke up.
“You okay, darling?”
I close my eyes. How does she always know when something is wrong?
I nod, even though I know she can’t see me. “Yeah,” I lie, despite my obvious tears.
“What’s wrong, Brell?” she asks.
I went on a date with a guy who is closer to your age than mine, who turned out to be a real asshole, and now I’m alone in this big, scary house with nowhere else to go. “Nothing, Mum.” I smile. “I’m just a bit homesick.” I twist the blanket between my fingers. “Everything will be fine in the morning.”
“Are you going out and sightseeing?”
