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I’m my own worst enemy.
The second option is to drink myself into a stupor. But as I try that, I’m failing miserably.
Why does this get to me so much? Amelia’s choice of him out of all men she could have chosen to settle down with. And seeing her again, it’s fucked with everything I thought I could control in my life. My mission was to come back here and win her back. But I doubt my capabilities, insecure about what we once had. Tonight, seeing her, she didn’t seem as invested in our past as I am. Maybe that’s my problem. I’m so hung up on the past and what we were.
Then, my mind drifts to Lex. I cannot understand how or why he would give his blessing. She’s way too young, and he knows that. What possible reason could he have to allow such a mistake?
Maybe it’s you. He loathes you that much and would instead allow her to marry someone else, just as long as it isn’t the man who disrespected the great Lex Edwards.
I would not put it past him.
My phone buzzes in my pocket. I retrieve it to read the message on my screen.
Unknown: Just because you haven’t forgotten doesn’t change anything.
I reread the message. It has to be Amelia even though the number is unknown to me, assuming she changed it over the years. My number has remained the same; too many business associates contact me on this number.
My feet begin to move on their own accord, pacing the area in front of the window with my fist pressed against my lips. What is her purpose for sending me this message? Did she enjoy hurting me or watching me suffer? Amelia held all the cards, a dangerous position to be in because with just one move—she can crush me.
Or maybe she already has.
Beneath my collared shirt, I begin to sweat. My skin feels incredibly hot, forcing me to remove my tie to be able to breathe normally. I head straight for the bathroom to notice a visible flush on my face and neck. Turning the faucet onto cold, I splash the water over my skin to cool myself down and gain some sort of control.
I think about replying but decide against it. Today was too much, and whatever I say may cause more harm than good.
My phone beeps again. This time it’s a text from Andy.
Andy: Ignore anything from Millie. She’s drunk AF.
My hands type quickly, hitting send as I begin to worry about Amelia’s safety. The last time she got drunk, men were trying to take advantage of her all over the dancefloor. She was god damn lucky I came when I did.
Me: Where is she???
Andy: I can’t remember. Somewhere near a building.
What kind of a fucking response is that? I check Andy’s Insta account, in which he posted a few stories. Nothing looks familiar, just uploads of drinks and a few girls—none of them being Amelia.
Fucking hell. How dare they both drop this on me and assume I’ll sit here and do absolutely nothing. I call Ava, but the phone rings for a while until she finally answers.
“Hello, Will?”
“Ava, where are Amelia and Andy?”
“No, hello? How are you? It’s been a while,” she points out with a trace of sarcasm. “How would I know? I’m not their keeper.”
“I don’t have time to play games.”
“Will, until two seconds ago, I didn’t even know you were hanging out with Millie again. Can you give me a moment to process all this?”
I bite my tongue, ready to give this girl a stern warning.
“Look, I’ll text Millie now and see if she tells me where she is.”
The line goes quiet bar the sound of keys typing. “So, while we wait, how have you been?”
“Fine,” is all I say.
“Really, fine?” Ava questions in a condescending tone. “The girl you love is getting married to another man. At what point are you fine?”
