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“I bet you’ll figure it out soon,” she says with an encouraging smile.
“Yeah, hopefully. So, let’s hear your list.”
Lyla
My sister is an idiot.
The perfect man adored her, loved her, wanted to spend his life with her, and she blew it.
I would’ve given anything to be in her shoes, but men like Barrett aren’t attracted to dorky-looking girls like me. Laurel and I may share the same red hair as our mother, but that’s where our similarities end. She’s my opposite in every way, inside and out.
If I can help Barrett move on and forget her by reminding him of what a horrible human she is, then it’s the best thing I can do for him.
“Maybe you don’t remember or know all these things about her before you said the vows. I apologize for not offering you the list back then, but it all happened so fast,” I tell the gorgeous, muscular man as soon as we get seated at a small two-person table on the terrace of the closest outdoor cafe.
I don’t know if military life was hard on him or good for him, but somehow, he got even more muscular than he was before he joined. He’s certainly bigger and scruffier but also sadder and more reserved than the eighteen-year-old boy I first met.
“You’re forgiven,” he replies with a grin that makes him even hotter. It takes me several seconds to remember what we were even talking about.
Oh, right. I was counting all the ways in which my sister can be an award-winning cunt.
“Okay, so should we get started with the list while we wait for someone to take our order?” I ask him.
“Go for it,” he agrees.
“All right. Did you know that she talks on the phone when she’s eating in a restaurant or waiting in line at like the bank or the grocery store? Not only is it rude as shit, but she’ll put the phone on speaker so everyone around her can hear the entire conversation.”
“Impolite, self-centered people are the worst,” Barrett remarks. “What else?”
“She wears too much perfume. Like, why do you need to bathe in it if you’ve showered and are clean, right?”
“I thought she always smelled sort of ritzy, like her perfume cost more than my rent.”
“It probably does,” I agree. “Which brings me to the next item on the list. She has no ambitions or goals other than being a trophy wife.”
“I figured as much,” he says with a sigh.
Crap, Ishould try to avoid bringing up the painful history of her marrying him.
“Most of the time, when she’s talking, she’s yelling, even in her sleep.”
“You are definitely the quieter sister.”
“Right? Even her texts are always in shouty caps. I’m not sure if that’s an accident or if she’s yelling by text too. Not to mention, she thinks she can sing, but her voice actually startles people. She loves to go screech karaoke. She’s an even worse driver, and her parking is terrible – like, she’ll pull into two spaces in a crowded lot instead of fitting her car into one, then complain if it gets a scratch on it. And man, she’s messy. She can’t keep her room or car clean, so I’m sure her house will be a disaster unless John hires a housekeeper…”
“John is?”
Whoops.
“Sorry, that’s her fiancé.” The pain on his face has me frantic to change the subject. “What else am I forgetting?” I say while tapping my fingers on the table. “Oh! I stopped going to the movies with her because she won’t get off her phone, and the light from the screen annoys everyone around her. Most of them are too nice to tell her to shove it up her ass, and when I’ve tried, she gets screechy. Oh, and she cuts lines. She’s always late because she’s just that selfish. Spoiled. Entitled. Is that a hundred things yet?”
“It’s enough. Some I remember, some of them I didn’t know. For whatever reason, I usually only remember the good things.”
“Good things? Laurel has positive attributes?”
“A few.”
Holy shit. This man is too nice. After what she put him through, he still loves her.
