Total pages in book: 68
Estimated words: 66259 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 331(@200wpm)___ 265(@250wpm)___ 221(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 66259 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 331(@200wpm)___ 265(@250wpm)___ 221(@300wpm)
I don’t answer.
So he texts.
Dustin
Yo, Kill, get it Kill? Cuz you slayyy the stage. Let’s hook up tomorrow and go over details. I know a great place that serves some magical cruelty free Matcha.
I want to text back that plants are technically cruelty free because… they’re plants. Instead, I just stare at the screen shake my head and think that my year just got so much worse.
CHAPTER EIGHT
Scarlett
“Morning!” Adrian yells so loudly he probably gave me and everyone within a mile radius a concussion. “I’ll have you know Chuck survived. I made you eggs. You have your next recording in six hours, and the dog already pooed but not in your apartment. I also did some tidying up. You really need to look into making your bed at some point this century. Oh, and Leather Pants says hi.”
I jolt up and groan then slowly lean back down on the couch. “I hate making my bed. Chuck better have survived, but he’s slow enough I could have caught him, thank you for taking out the dog, and he said what?”
“Hi and he hopes you’re well and unfortunately he can’t go as your plus one to the wedding.”
“Oh, well.” I slowly sit back up. “Of course he can’t, I was just really drunk, and he’s super busy. I’m just going to take a shower then. Thanks for the eggs!”
I try to walk past him, but he grabs me by the arm and pulls me in for a tight hug. I relax against him. “Hey, don’t worry. I’ll go with you, all right? Who cares that I’m a priest, I’m still hot.”
I laugh because he isn’t wrong. “You’re going to have every bridesmaid hitting on you.”
“That makes me feel powerful.” He kisses my forehead. “Now, get a shower. I’m gonna take off. You sure you’re okay?”
“Of course I’m okay!” Why does it feel like I’m shouting while smiling? “I’m just hungover and feeling super stupid. Did you keep the tuxedo, though? I worked really hard on it.”
“It shows, it shows.” He nods, his smile doesn’t quite reach his eyes, though. I know he knows I’m lying through my teeth, but he’s being gracious enough to not say anything.
“Thank you.” I close the door and then hear him leave the house. It doesn’t take me long to walk to the bathroom, close the door, and slump to the cold white tiled floor and cry.
It’s stupid.
I’m probably still drunk.
So why did I have hope that he’d say yes? Or that he even thought about me once or missed me?
It’s better this way, and I have to tell myself that in order to get up and get ready for the day.
I’m happy.
So happy.
I have a great life, and I don’t need Killian in it to fulfill any spaces, even the ones he left empty.
“You can do this Scar, you always bounce back, you always will.” I get up to my feet by using the sink to stand and then press my hands against the porcelain sink, staring at myself in the mirror. My honey blonde hair is somehow sticking up like devil horns—I’ve always been a violent sleeper—and my lipstick is smudged.
Yeah, real winner right there, real winner.
I growl at myself in the mirror then turn on the shower. It doesn’t matter that I sent him an embarrassing text. He probably thought it was cute or dumb and didn’t give it a second thought.
I strip and hop into the shower, then say to myself, “And now I get to go to my sister’s wedding to my ex-fiancé, with an ex-boyfriend who they’re going to think I sent into being a priest. Oh God, I’m Ross from Friends! I made him quit sex just like Ross made his wife a Lesbian!”
I scream for good measure and slam a hand against the tile wall and then repeat to myself out loud, “What’s the worst that could happen? It’s in a month, I have a month to get ready, find an amazing dress and focus on all the lies I’m going to have to say while staring at them in the face and saying, ‘Congrats, I’m so happy for you two!’”
A tear slides down my cheek and then another.
It’s not even that he cheated.
It’s that my sister betrayed me first.
And they were going to just hide it, like I’m stupid, like I’m worthless, not worth a second thought.
It’s the worst feeling ever, having no worth to others you hold in high esteem, especially when it’s family.
I finish washing my hair and my hungover body and attempt to put on some makeup and a happy face.
I take Bruno for another walk and warm up Adrian’s eggs for breakfast before checking up on Chuck Norris.
The sewing machine is still out as is the forsaken tuxedo. I pick it up. “Gotta admit, Chuck, I did a pretty damn good job on this.”