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Prescott Hills
Montauk, NY
Room 1204
“Eli, don’t—”
Ignoring him, I got into the car, and without a second thought I drove, the rage in me growing with each passing mile. I gripped the steering wheel, gritting my teeth as I thought. They were no more than twenty minutes away from the chaos they had unleashed on my life.
When I pulled up at the Prescott Hills, I was prepared to kick the door down. I immediately saw both of them walking toward me, completely oblivious, still holding those godforsaken hands.
“Eli!” Hannah gasped, no longer in her dress, now wearing jeans and a gift shop shirt.
Ignoring her, my fist collided with his jaw and he fell against the wall, but that didn’t stop me. Grabbing him by the collar, I kept punching until my knuckles cracked on his face.
“STOP! Eli! Stop or I will call the cops, I swear,” she yelled.
I wanted to kill him, but by some miracle, I managed to stop. “Call the cops?” I stood rigid, ignoring the pain in my hand and the fucker at my feet. “What's stopping you, Hannah? Make this day even more special!”
She hung her head, dropping to her knees beside him.
“I understand that you hate—”
“You understand nothing.” I cut him off. I couldn’t even look at them anymore. I turned to leave but stopped, pulling out my phone to take a picture of his bloody face. It gave me no real satisfaction, but what the hell. Maybe that other woman would get some peace of mind out of seeing it.
All I could wonder as I drove was, how? How could this happen?
Chapter Two
Dr. Asshole and the Con Artist
Guinevere
A month had passed since the worst day of my life, and since then I had been able to confirm a universal truth: music was God’s gift to the brokenhearted. The first week, I cried to Adele and Mariah Carey. The second week, I was on to Beyoncé and Pink. The third week, Eminem was speaking my language, and the fourth was dedicated to the ‘90s.
“Gwen? Hello? You still there?”
“Yeah, Dad, I’m here.” I adjusted the phone on my shoulder, packing my shoes into the box.
“Are you sure you don’t need me to come down there—”
“Daddy, I promise you I’m okay.” That was a lie. Yes, it had been a month and I still felt like shit, but I knew I would feel like that for a while.
“When things like this happen, you need family, Gwen. It’s the only way to get over this. Besides, New York has nothing on Cypress.”
Exhaling deeply, I grabbed another empty box as I headed into the bathroom. “How about I promise to come visit in a few weeks, okay? I still have a lot of work to do in the city. Plus, you know I can’t come back home now. People will be staring and judging…”
“Since when has my Gwen ever cared about what others thought of her?” He chuckled into the phone.
Since I was publicly humiliated. “You're right. Screw them all, and tell Mom I want the biggest welcome home party in the state.”
“Thatta girl. Chin up.”
“Head high. Bye Daddy, love you.”
“Love you, too,” he replied, hanging up.
Sighing, I threw the box on the ground and Taigi, forgetting he wasn’t a puppy any more, tried to use it as a bed but broke through it. Dismayed, he walked away from it and curled up into a ball of white and black fur in the corner. I was about to curl up into a ball next to him when I heard the doorbell ring.
