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He dropped the phone into my outstretched hands. “I’ll be downstairs to give you some privacy. Yell if you need me.”
I nodded absently as he closed the door behind him. I had only caught half of his words because I was too busy inspecting my phone.
“Oh, my poor baby . . .” I turned the device over in my hands, inspecting every dent and scratch. I felt physically ill when I saw the spider web crack on the front screen. So much for the best phone on the market. I never bothered with lens protectors or phone cases because I was always so careful with my tech. Hopefully, the damage was only superficial, and I could still make calls.
I held my breath as I turned my phone on, only letting out the air when my screen lit up. The phone slowly began to beep, like it was a bomb about to self-destruct in thirty seconds, as the missed calls, the texts, and the emails poured in. Most of them were from a very pissed-off supervisor. I had been working at the office most of my adult life, and the team relied heavily on me. I was everyone’s go-to girl. And I wasn’t the type to go AWOL on them. Even on vacations, I always answered my phone, so I could only imagine the raging dumpster fire the office was in now that I was gone.
I’ll look at those later,I told myself as the notifications for my work email multiplied into the triple digits.That is, if I still have a job after this.
Surprisingly, that thought didn’t terrify me as much as it should have.
I opened my contacts and clicked on the number labeled asMom.
“Skye-bunny!” My mom said into the receiver, picking up after the fourth ring. “How are you? I’ve missed you!”
Her bright and cheery voice immediately brought tears to my eyes, and I had to take a moment to compose myself before speaking. “Hi Mom, I’ve missed you too. Sorry I haven’t called in a bit. How are you? How’s Dad?”
“Things are good. Did I tell you that Dan got another promotion at work? He and Mal just closed on that beach house they’ve been looking at. They’re going to sublet it during the busy season and stay in it the rest of the year on the weekends. The girls are really excited, you know how much they love the beach—”
Without realizing it, I slowly began to tune out my mom’s words, feeling too deflated to really listen. I don’t know why I expected anything different—my mom used ninety percent of our phone time to talk about everything my younger sister, Mal, was doing in her life, and spent the rest of the time lamenting how she wished Carter would pop the question, and when that didn’t really pan out, complaining about how she wished I could find a good man exactly like Carter.
I think the reason why my mom talked about Mal so much was because she thought if she reminded me of everything Mal and her husband were doing right, it would motivate me on a subconscious level to fix everythingwrongin my life.
The worst part? She knew all the things I was already doing to better myself and my life. And how burnt out I already felt from all the pressure.
“That’s really nice, Mom. I’m really happy for her.” I didn’t try to hide the exhaustion in my voice. I was too tired to pretend, even for her.
“Oh Bunny . . . you sound so sad.” She paused and lowered her voice. I had the impression she was holding the receiver close to her mouth. “This is about Carter, isn’t it? I’m surprised you didn’t call sooner, then I realized you were probably on one of those hippy-dippy retreats you love to go on where they do social media cleanses and take your phone away for a week. I don’t know why you pay so much money for stuff like that when I would hold onto your phone for free—”
The corners of my vision were starting to darken. Good thing I was laying down because I suddenly felt dizzy. “Mom,” I said, cutting her off, “what’s going on with Carter?”
“Oh . . . you haven’t seen his post, have you?”
“Mom, I gotta go.” I clicked end call before she could respond. Whatever was going on with Carter, my mom couldn’t be the one to break the news.
My chest tightened as I opened the social media app on my phone. All I could focus on was the loud whooshing sound of blood pumping in my ears as I searched my friend list, looking for Carter’s name. I took a deep breath, feeling nausea deep in the pit of my stomach, and clicked on his profile.
I didn’t have to search long. The picture was right there at the front of his profile, proudly displayed for the whole wide world to see. In the picture, Carter was pressed cheek to cheek with a brunette elf with her hair styled into a more stylish bob than mine. I looked closer—Yup. It was identical to the same hairstyle I showed my stylist the day I cut my hair short.
She was so stunninglyperfect,from the hair on her head, the dazzling white smile, to the deep valley of cleavage just below her collarbone. The only thing more stunning was the massive diamond ring on her finger she displayed proudly to the camera.
Hooooly shit. Carter was engaged.
Chapter twenty-one
Iignoredthelightknock on my door, and Ansel poking his head in to see if I was still on the phone, followed by him quietly entering the room and moving to sit down next to me on the bed. I was too busy studying Carter’s fiancée—Sweet Goddess, he’s engaged?!I still couldn't believe it. Well, more specifically, I was studying the zoomed in picture of her engagement ring. It looked so familiar . . . Then it dawned on me.
That was my engagement ring.
Correction: that was supposed to bemyring. I was the one who had picked it out, not Carter. I remembered because it was a unique choice—a diamond cut in a hexagon shape accented with two smaller opal stones on a gold band. When we were still dating, I had sent several links to Carter's email of jewelers in the area that carried the ring, in case he needed ideas. The only thing that was different about the ring was the big ass diamond. She had gotten an upgrade.
Carter upgraded you, so it makes sense he would upgrade the ring as well.
I started laughing; a burst of loud, hysterical laughter. It didn’t matter that Ansel was sitting right there next to me. Once I started, I couldn't stop.
Ansel pushed his brows together as he watched me warily. “Skye?” he asked softly. “Are you okay? You’re laughing, but you look like you’re about to cry.”
Orcs must be magical, because as soon as he said the word, tears began to stream down my face. And like the laughter, once they started, I couldn’t get them to stop. Do you know what makes you look crazier than bursting into loud, hysterical laughter out of nowhere? Sobbing and giggling at the same time.
