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“Fourth,” I correct.
“See? Anyway, we all saw it coming. But then you got engaged to that artist in the city. Diego got really dark after that. I remember barely seeing him smile.”
I glance up toward the VIP section. “Really?”
Kennedy nods. “I had a feeling it had to do with your engagement. Anyway, is that why you broke up with your ex?” Gasping, she takes my hand. “Oh my god, did he do, like, some big dramatic move and declare that he couldn’t live without you forever? Is that why you and your fiancé broke up?”
“No.” I laugh and try to ignore the way my chest tightens up. It’s not the mentioning of my ex-fiancé that causes the feeling of rejection to rise up inside of me. The reasoning for his dumping me is, though.
“What’s happening between me and Diego has an expiration date,” I admit to Kennedy.
“What?” comes her immediate reply. Her light brown eyes widen. “There’s no way. How—”
“I actually need to use the restroom,” I cut her off. “How about I meet you at the bar?”
She looks me up and down, obviously not content with my non-answer, but she doesn’t push. Thankful, I give her a nod and head to the bathroom.
Luckily, I don’t have to wait as I enter the beautifully marble-floored and wall mirrored bathroom. The trim along the ceilings is the same blood red color as walls of the VIP section.
I marvel at the grandeur of this club as I do my business. Whoever owns this place obviously spared no expense to create the luxurious, exclusive environment.
As I move to wash my hands, a woman enters the bathroom. We make eye contact, and I give her a quick smile out of politeness. She’s beautiful, I can’t help but notice. Long, dark hair, smokey brown eyes, and a rich caramel complexion.
She moves to the sink next to me and turns to look me over. “You’re really pretty,” she says, surprising me.
“Thank you. So are you,” I return.
When I think that’s the end of our conversation, she surprises me again. “What’s that on your arm?”
I don’t need to look to know that she’s pointing at my continuous glucose monitor. Annoyance prickles through my body. Haven’t most people learned not to ask questions about other people’s bodies, yet? Especially not of a complete stranger.
“It’s nothing.” I turn to grab one of the folded linen clothes to dry my hands.
“It has to be something if you’re wearing it out here, right?” She swings her hair over her shoulder. “Is it because you have diabetes? My boyfriend’s ex had that. He told me.”
My frown deepens. “Your boyfriend shouldn’t be telling you about his ex’s health information.”
She waves a hand. For the first time I see the glassy look in her eyes. She’s at least a few drinks in. Not an excuse to be messy but whatever. This girl isn’t my problem.
“Yeah, well, he broke up with her.” She shrugs, not paying attention to the fact that I’m not interested in this conversation. “He said she was too needy. Always wanting to be taken care of because she was sick. Are you always sick? How are you able to wear that and come out to a nightclub?”
“Excuse me.”
I brush past her, knocking her out of my way with my shoulder. I typically have patience with drunk people, but she just pushed my damn buttons. I yank the door open with all of the force I can muster and start for the bar to meet Kennedy.
“Hey,” Ken says as soon as I come up next to her. “Did you want something? I don’t know your drink of choice.”
I start to say yes but hesitate. I glance down at my wrist and realize that I’m not wearing my sports watch with my numbers on it. And I left my phone upstairs in the VIP section.
Once again, even in a minor way, my illness plays a role in the choice I have to make. I shake my head.
“I’ll hold off until I can check my numbers,” I tell Kennedy. “I can order something once we—”
“Hey, were you upset by what I said?” that annoying voice from the restroom asks behind me.
I slow blink and wait for a beat before slowly turning around. Yup, she’s still there.
“Who is this?” Kennedy asks.
