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ONE
Heartbreak. Humiliation. Hatred.
Those are the three H words loving Hunter Jameson evoked within me. In that exact order. First came the heartbreak, while I was standing at the altar in front of both of our families and all of our friends. Then came the humiliation of being the jilted bride. Something I never, ever thought would happen to me. Third was the hatred. That feeling is reserved for him and him alone. My so-called high school sweetheart. The one I thought I’d spend the rest of my living, breathing days with. Hunter-fucking-Jameson.
Is it too much to hope he and his new bride get hit by a bus?
I should be over that whole ordeal by now. Iamover it. It was six months ago. Practically a lifetime really. I don’t usually dwell on it too much these days. In fact, I barely give Hunter a passing thought. It’s just when I’m forced to see his sickeningly perfect wedding snapshots all over social media—yes, the jerkface went and got hitched today—it’s hard not to think about that awful day. Especially after he left me at the altar because (and I quote):You’re just not the marrying type.
“Okay, that pint of Ben and Jerry’s really isn’t going to solve your mental breakdown,” Eloise says before snatching the tub of sweet cream and cookies from my hands.
“I agree. It’s only going to make you sadder. Butthis…” Daisy adds, holding up a bottle of tequila. “This, my friend, will make everything better!”
I groan. “I don’t think tequila and me are a good idea right now,” I tell Daisy, who clearly isn’t listening because she continues to pour us four shots.
“You’re not in the right frame of mind to make responsible decisions, which is why we’re here to make them for you.” Claire places a plate of wedged limes in the centre of my coffee table with her declaration.
“I really appreciate you all being here and putting up with my overdramatic ass. Once again,” I tell all three of my best friends.
“Nonsense, there is nowhere else we would rather be,” Daisy says, and then proceeds to hand me a shot glass.
I take the tequila, hold it up, and lick my left hand as Eloise pours a generous amount of salt on the spot.
“Lick, shoot, suck!” Daisy yells out, and all four of us follow her instructions.
My nose scrunches up as I suck on the lime. I don’t know why I ever think tequila shots are going to be a good idea. They’re horrible, but then as the burn runs its way down my chest and warms my body, I’m already thinking a second shot is in order. Maybe drinking myself stupid is the distraction I need to forget about Hunter-fucking-Jameson… and his stupid, ugly-pretty wife.
Yes, ugly-pretty is a thing. It’s where someone is physically pretty, but you find them ugly just because you want to. In my head, it makes sense.
“Okay, another!” I say, slamming my glass down on the coffee table while the girls all cheer. Raising the second glass, I yell out, “To friendships that will never end,” and we clink our shots together.
“Hear, hear!” Daisy says. “Now, lick, shoot, suck.”
Following her lead, I take the shot and look around at my friends. I really am so grateful for my girls. I’ve collected them over the years and I plan on keeping them.
I met Eloise in second grade. We’ve been inseparable since that day I told Nicholas Kelsey off for pulling her hair. At the time, we didn’t know that a boy pulling your hair meant he liked you. Eloise found that out when she dated Nicholas from eighth to ninth grade. Thankfully, she outgrew Nicholas’s immaturity really fast.He, however, spent the rest of high school pining after her. Not that I can blame the guy. She is fucking gorgeous. With long, ashy-brown hair, tanned skin, and curves that belong on a 1950s poster, Eloise is every man’s wet dream. Even if she’s not interested in dating right now. She’s way too focused on her career. Eloise is a real estate guru. One of Melbourne’s most sought-after agents. She selling the kind of houses we could only dream of owning.
Then there’s Daisy. We collected her in our senior year. She was transferred to our school after being kicked out of her last three. She was rebellious, still is in a lot of ways. Although she settled down during that year, ended up getting into college, and now works as a youth counsellor, helping other young girls who are struggling through life. She has a sort of passion for her job that I’ve never seen in anyone else. Looking at her, you’d think she’d be better suited on the catwalk. Daisy is model tall, leggy, while her blonde hair is cut into a long bob that ends at her shoulders. It’s her eyes that I find to be the most beautiful physical attributes of hers, though. Pale blue. They’re uniquely her.
Last, but not least, there’s Claire. We added her to our little friend group in our first year of uni. Claire is the smartest of us all, academically. She graduated top of her class last year and is now employed by a top-tier finance firm while working her way up that corporate ladder. Whereas I opted to graduate with a diploma in paralegal studies, rather than complete the four-year law degree I had my heart set on.
And why the sudden change? Hunter-fucking-Jameson. (Are you seeing the trend here?)
He convinced me that I’d be wasting my time doing the full degree when we were going to be starting a family as soon as we were married. Hunter was old fashioned; he wanted me at home, raising the kids, while he brought in the paycheck. I was blinded by my love for him, or at least at the time, I thought it was love. I’m not so convinced now. Either way, I let him talk me into believing that I wanted that dream too. That I couldn’t wait to start a family with him, raise perfect children, and be the perfect wife.
In a lot of ways, being dumped at the altar saved me. Because, deep down, I know I would never have been satisfied with that life.
“We need to go dancing.” Daisy pulls me to my feet. “Let’s go!”
“It’s Sunday, Daisy,” I tell her.
“Precisely why we should go. It won’t be as busy.” She pushes me towards my bedroom. “Put a sexy little number on, and come dancing with me, Dani.” Daisy sticks out her bottom lip.
Eloise and Claire are quick to agree with this insane idea. Me? Not so much.
“We all have to work in the morning. I have a new job I’m starting tomorrow. I cannot be hungover.”
“Like you’ve ever been hungover in your life. Get dressed or I’m dragging you out in that.” Eloise waves a hand up and down my body.
