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I was exhausted. Run down. A shell of the person I used to be only five weeks ago.
I could barely drag myself out of bed every morning to face the fear of seeing him and not being able to hold back the tears.
My pride hurt. My self-love was damaged. My heart was shattered into a million pieces. He’d taken the big ones, and as hard as I demanded them back, I knew they’d never be mine again.
Alison insisted on picking me up every morning. It was her way of making sure I would get out of the house and back into my life again. I had been mad at her, too. I thought she knew everything, so I blamed her for not warning me. She swore she didn’t know, and I could see it on her face that she was being truthful.
It still struck me as strange how she was kept in the dark, considering the strong bond they obviously had.
She was here today, too. Giving me strength and support disguised under the pretext of us getting ready for the party together and driving there in the car her father arranged to pick me up.
“Besides, it’s Saturday.” She said, as if this was where she belonged on Saturdays.
If her whole wardrobe wasn’t currently spread out on top of my bed, I’d be amazed. There were dresses, makeup, accessories, shoes, and everything we could possibly need scattered around the small space. She was either excited to have some fun, or she was trying extra hard to pump me up with her enthusiasm.
It wasn’t working at all.
Alison practically coerced me into choosing a bright red satin gown with a plunging V cleavage that ended right between my breasts. I wasn’t feeling confident enough to pull it off, but then again, I wasn’t confident enough to pull off a pair of pajamas. So the statement red dress it was.
She helped me with my makeup, the dark circles all but disappearing under whatever sorcery she performed, giving me a fake glow that could fool the most attentive of crowds.
“You look so damn beautiful, J. He’ll be devastated when he sees you,” Alison said, her tongue slipping without dire intention.
“I’m not dressing up for him, Alison. I shouldn’t even be going to this damn thing.” I glared at her, the mention of Liam making me want to not leave the house.
“I know, I’m sorry. But it doesn’t hurt if you see him squirm a little, either.”
I didn’t want reactions. Reactions meant stuff I couldn’t deal with right now. I wanted to hate him with all my heart so that maybe, one day, I could free myself from him.
“Is that the reaction you’re looking for in what’s-his-name? Max, is it?” She had gone the extra mile on herself, too. The dark blue gown she had on was conservative at first glance until she bared her back, nothing but sheer lace covering her skin, ending dangerously low.
“What? Are you insane? Of course not.”
“Don’t lie to me, Alison Dornier. You’ve got a thing for him.”
“That’s gross, Jamie. He’s like an older brother. Besides, there’s nothing but mystery around him, and I don’t deal well with secrets.”
“I’m with you on that.” It had been a secret that landed me in the land of heartbreak and misery. “Let’s just go and get this over with, okay?”
“Sure.” She took my hands in hers and gave them an encouraging squeeze. “I’ll be there for you every step of the way.”
Mr. Dornier and Matt were outside waiting for us when we arrived. Matt wasn’t part of AD, but his relationship with his father was progressing to a place where he would take pride in his achievements and stand by his family to celebrate them. Family was a big deal to all of them, as Liam had once explained. They were each other’s strengths and weaknesses.
Things were still a little bit weird between Matt and me, so I accepted Mr. Dornier’s arm and started walking inside while Alison walked with her brother. We had only taken a couple of steps before Matt suddenly stopped.
“Wait. Liam’s here.” He said, Mr. Dornier pausing in his tracks.
Fuck! Do we really have to do this right here where there’s no chance for escape? I have my freaking arm locked in my boss’s. Please, Earth, just swallow me now!
I kept my eyes glued to the entrance straight ahead, not wanting to turn and see that devilishly handsome man my broken heart still bled for.
“Good evening,” Liam said as he approached. I watched him through the corner of my eye, greeting the men with a hug first, then Alison with a kiss, finally turning to me and hesitating.
My heart pounded in my chest as if it was trying to break free. I was expecting to have had a drink or two before I had to deal with him. Maybe numbing my senses would have made it all easier.
I swallowed the lump in my throat and looked at him. He was as handsome as ever, the allure of that damn tux making my heart flutter, my eyes unable to keep from roaming over him in a feast of the senses.
Fuck, you’re so pathetic, Jamie Harden.
