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I should’ve never listened to it. The familiarity of his voice strikes me in the gut. My eyes start to water and tears slide down my cheeks. Mindlessly, I throw myself onto my oversized couch, letting the cushions envelope me as I sob.
Chapter Two
Penelope
Isnagmyphoneand scroll through my contacts until I locate Georgia. It rings twice then I hear her voice. My tears start to dry up and my breathing becomes normal.
We’ve been by each other’s sides ever since the day we met. She always makes me feel better just by being there, and right now, I need her.
And honestly, I don’t have anyone else.
“Georgia….” I try to get the words out but my voice cracks.
“Do you want me to come over?” She knows me too well.
“Please.”
“Let me get dressed and I’ll be right over. Are there any paparazzi outside the building?”
“Oh God, let me double check, I didn’t even think to look for them.”
I climb off the couch and quickly cross to the windows, peering out to see if there’s any paparazzi at the entrance to the building. Sure enough, a crowd of people stand on the sidewalk, aiming their cameras at the building.
“Ugh, there are. What am I going to do?”
“Don’t worry, I’ll stop by the store and grab some food, so you don’t have to leave,” she says. “I’ll bring pajamas too and we can just veg. You shouldn’t be alone right now. Is there anything specific you want from the store?”
“You’re the best. How about some Ben and Jerry’s and peanut M&M’s? Not part of my diet, I know, but I don’t care right now.”
“I got you. Be there in a little while.” She hangs up.
I hold the phone to my chest for a few minutes before putting it back in the kitchen.
Trying to pass the time before Georgia arrives, I decide to clean up my closet. Surrounding myself with my vintage and designer pieces normally makes me happy.
When I open the closet door, I gasp at the sight in front me. On display is the cream, floor-length Chanel gown that Drew had surprised me with on the night that he proposed.
I’d been on set filming my newest movie when I got a call from him, informing me that a car was coming to pick me up and take me to a surprise location. The gown and shoes were inside. It was at our favorite restaurant in the city that he got on one knee and asked me to marry him.
It was a no-brainer when I said yes to being his wife.
It was the happiest moment of my life.
Now, standing here in front of this symbol of joy, all I feel is rage. And pain. And disappointment.
It fills me up until I’m bursting at the seams, needing a way to let it all out. Quickly, I turn on my heel and dart into the kitchen, throwing open the junk drawer and grabbing my scissors.
My heartbeat thumps in my ears as I rush back to the closet. I rip the dress off its hanger and wipe the sweat from my brow. Before I can second guess what I’m about to do, I take the scissors and slice the fabric.
I slash and rip.
Strips of fabric drop to the floor, each one representing a shredded piece of my heart. And the love I thought I had.
Tears stream down my face.
I keep cutting until all that is left is a heap of jagged fabric and I’m so out of breath that I’m forced to sit down to avoid passing out. Letting out an animalistic scream, I pull my knees to my chest and try to ignore the ache in my stomach.
The sound of my penthouse phone pulls me out of my fog. I make my way to the ringing, grabbing it off the wall by the elevator door, and putting it to my ear.
