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“Here’s my favorite girl!” Rocky shouts, “Come sit with us.”
“Hey!” Luna yells, “You said I was your favorite?”
“Um, hello, he also said I was his favorite,” Jessa interjects. “You’re such a whore, Rocky.”
Uncle Rocky nods with a proud grin. “What can I say? I’m a charming old fella.”
I saunter toward the empty spot, which happens to be across from Will. He ignores me, throwing poker chips in the middle of the table. I take a seat beside Jessa and pour myself a drink but decide to nurse it. I’m not in the mood for a hangover but don’t want to spoil their fun either.
Surrounding the table are empty bottles of tequila, gin, vodka, and a few other labels I don’t recognize. The more I observe Will’s behavior, not to mention the empty shot glass in front of him, the more it becomes evident he has drunk a fair bit.
There’s a lot of smack talk, mainly from Rocky and Nash. The two of them are just as bad as each other, the liquor of no help. I laugh along with them, not wanting to dampen the atmosphere even though Will has not said a single word, playing aimlessly with the poker chips in front of him.
“Who’s up for strip poker?” Uncle Rocky spouts with an obnoxious laugh.
Jessa shakes her head with disgust. “God, no.”
I rest my hand on hers reassuringly with a grin.
“No offense, Uncle Rocky, but some of us like wearing clothes,” I tell him.
“Really?” Will mocks, raising his eyes to meet mine finally. “It doesn’t stop you taking it off for what’s his face?”
His eyes are glossy, and his stare is anything but welcoming. There is a supreme confidence and satisfaction within himself, thanks to the shot of tequila he pours and throws back so effortlessly. He lets out a rasp, then wipes his mouth with the back of his hand.
None of this excuses his rude behavior. Drunk Will is such a god damn asshole.
But what is the point of exhausting my energy to argue with him. Chances are, he won’t remember a single thing in the morning. This is more Will getting something off his chest. Unfortunately, he is choosing to do so in front of other people.
“What?” he prods with an arrogant smirk. “Nothing to say? Why don’t you tell everyone at the table why you’re marrying the jerk?”
“He knows how to eat pussy,” Rocky blurts out.
Will lets out a growl, almost fist punching his dad. They get into an argument which momentarily distracts Will.
“Hey, c’mon bud, calm down,” Andy says, patting Will on the shoulder.
“Will…” I murmur, dropping my gaze, “You’re drunk. So, no matter what answer I give you, it won’t change how you feel inside.”
“And what is that?” he begs to argue. “Tell me how I feel, Doctor Edwards?”
Jessa rolls her eyes, quickly stepping in. “Will, leave her alone. If you wanted to marry her, you should have asked first. End of story.”
Will slams his fist on the table, then rises from his chair. “I would have asked first! If I wasn’t threatened with losing everything I worked hard for. You try loving someone knowing that you will never be enough. You try having Lex Edwards sabotage your career unless you walk away!”
“Hey, son.” Uncle Rocky places his hands on Will’s chest. “C’mon, you need to calm down.”
“I won’t fucking calm down. You hurt me, Amelia. You’ve hurt me more than you’ll ever know by saying yes to someone else and forgetting everything we fucking had.”
Will grabs the bottle and smashes it against the wall, only to walk away, with Uncle Rocky following him.
I swallow the lump inside my throat as I fall back into the chair and close my eyes. I’m beyond tears, tired of this game we continue to play. The pain inside my chest refuses to subside, and the last thing I want to do is talk about this anymore.
“Let’s go somewhere and talk?” Jessa suggests with Luna agreeing beside her.
“You know what, guys? Thanks for the offer, but I really want to be alone.”
I head toward my room and close the door behind me. It’s one thing to know the pain you feel inside, but another to see the pain you’ve caused someone else. We had a past, a past which carried so much baggage. And despite how Will treated me tonight, I couldn’t entirely blame him. He is the one who must watch me live my life with someone else. If the roles were reversed, chances are—I would be in just as much pain.
