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What the hell is wrong with me? I need to give myself space to heal. I need to not date losers and wait until I’m truly ready. And that shit is going to start today. I’m not a pathetic girl whose happiness is dependent on a man.
Fuck, that’s a hard pill to swallow. The idea of moving on has me ready to fall to pieces, but I have to do it, otherwise, I’ll be stuck in this endless cycle of heartbreak. But before I can do that, there’s just one thing I need to do.
Using the sheet to dry my eyes, I clamber out of the bed before wrapping it around me like some kind of makeshift dress. Finding my scattered, torn clothes across the room, I shove them into a bag and strut out of the room with my head held high, promising myself that I will never fall victim to Carter Water’s wicked charm again.
I mean, don’t get me wrong, it was amazing, fucking incredible, mind-blowing even. And just the thought of never having him touch me like that again . . . Well, shit. It’s a tragedy. I’ll have to find some way to be satisfied with average sex with average men for the rest of my life.
I’m sure I’ll eventually find someone to be happy with, someone I can train to get me off the way Carter does. It will be a long road, but after my poor heart heals, I need to give it a try. If that fails, then I can always turn to the monster dildo I keep stashed under my bed. It’s gotta be good for something, right?
Walking down the hall, I knock on Cassie’s bedroom door, not bothering to wait before pushing my way in. After living together for the last year of college, there isn’t much we haven’t seen of each other, and I guess that means Jax too. I mean, damn. The number of times I’ve accidentally seen that man’s bare ass is astounding, but I’m not going to complain, he’s got one of the best asses I’ve ever seen.
“Fuck,” Jax groans as he takes one look at me, wrapped in the sheet with red, puffy eyes. He yawns and gets out of bed, dragging his feet, understanding that for the foreseeable future, his wife is mine.
Jax walks out of the room, leaving me and Cass alone, and I crawl in beside her as she rolls over and welcomes me into her arms. I cry on her shoulder as if I can magically expel the pain from my heart with my tears—the final tears I will allow myself to cry for Carter Waters.
Once they finally run their course, I get out of bed, steal one of Cassie’s outfits, and get my ass home after stopping by the store, a new, fiercer determination pulsing through my veins.
Grabbing the bag from the store, I take the little box of chestnut hair dye and scan through the instructions before putting the color through my hair, finally reclaiming some lost, broken part of myself.
The second I get in the shower, I scrub my body and wash every inch of him off me before shampooing my hair. Half an hour later, I feel like a new me. Then just to prove some ridiculous point, I take the clothes from yesterday and dump them in the bathtub with the box of Carter memories in the back of my closet, and open the bathroom window. Then hoping I don’t accidentally burn the whole apartment complex to the ground, I light it up, more than ready to say goodbye.
It’s been four weeks since that night with Carter, and I’m proud to say that I’ve actually been doing alright . . . mostly. Okay, that’s complete bullshit. I’m still a mess, but I’m a mess who can wear a smile a little more often.
I still think about him all the time, but then I remember that I’m not a pathetic loser who’s going to spend the rest of my life pining over someone I can’t have. And honestly, that thought always manages to save me from falling down the rabbit hole.
I’ve embraced this whole new me bullshit. Though, after my fire singed the roof and left burn marks, I kinda have no choice but to follow through with it. After all, I’m not going to lose my rental bond for nothing.
I’ve spent these past few weeks being the healthiest version of myself. I’ve started taking yoga classes, and I’m pretty close to convincing Cassie to take pole dancing classes like we used to in college. I’ve started the whole clean eating crap and even invested in a few cooking classes, which means I’m saving a shitload of money not purchasing takeout.
The only part I refuse to negotiate on is the wine. That stays. The wine is a necessity.
