Total pages in book: 78
Estimated words: 72060 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 360(@200wpm)___ 288(@250wpm)___ 240(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 72060 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 360(@200wpm)___ 288(@250wpm)___ 240(@300wpm)
Me: I’m here and in room 227
I put the phone beside me, walking over to the window and looking out. The last time I stayed in this hotel was when he brought me back home for his cousin's wedding. I put my hand to my stomach, ignoring the pain in the middle of my chest. "I need a shower and then a nap."
The nap lasts a full forty-five minutes before the alarm rings, followed by a text from Rachel that she is on her way up. A minute later, the knock on the door comes. I pull open the door and smile when I see her. "Hi," I say when she walks in, and she gives me a hug.
"I come bearing gifts," she announces, holding up the brown paper bag. I close the door behind her when she walks over to the desk. She pulls out a bottle of champagne and another bottle of orange juice. "Mimosas for everyone."
I laugh and shake my head. "I don’t know if it’s a good idea to drink before the wedding."
Rachel just shakes her head. "If there is ever a good time to drink before a wedding, it’s when it’s your ex’s." She grabs one of the glasses from the little tray on the desk next to the ice bucket. "Trust me, I googled." She holds out a glass for me.
"I mean, if Google said it." I walk to her. "Thank you." I grab the glass from her as she does her own drink.
"To closure." She smiles at me, and I have to blink away the tears threatening to come.
"To closure," I toast softly and take a sip of the drink. "What room are you in?"
"Right next door." She points at the wall that separates us. "The car will be here in an hour."
"I already took my shower," I say. "All I have to do is put my makeup and the dress on."
"Okay, well, I’m going to go shower," Rachel says, pouring more champagne into her cup. "And then I’ll come back." I nod at her. "It’s going to be fine."
"Piece of cake." I fake it, and she walks out of the room. I finish the mimosa and walk back to the bathroom to do my makeup.
I comb my hair and then blow-dry it, the whole time wondering if me going is really that good of an idea. The man I love is marrying someone else. I shake my head. No, the man I used to love is marrying someone else. I don’t love him anymore. In fact, when it comes down to it, I don’t even believe in love anymore.
I mean, who would believe in love when the only person you’ve ever loved breaks your heart and throws away everything you had. The hurt is still there four years later. The wound has been healed, but the hurt and the pain are something I will never forget. It’s also something that I never ever want to go through again. Which is why I never got involved with anyone after that. I did date, occasionally, but I had this wall up around my heart, and nothing was tearing it down.
Going through the motions of leaving my hair down with soft curls and then putting on light makeup, I walk over to the closet and open the door seeing the two dresses hanging. Grabbing the green dress, I slip into it. The silk is smooth on my body as I slide my arm through the one sleeve and then zip it up at the side. The elastic on the sleeve makes it puff out just a touch.
Walking over to the mirror, I take a deep breath in and then exhale when I look at myself in the mirror. I don’t even have a chance because the knock on the door interrupts me.
When I pull open the door, Rachel stands there in her purple dress that is tight until her knees. “Oh my God,” she says when she looks at me. “Are you wearing that?”
I look down. “I have another option, but…”
“You look fantastic,” she declares, and I walk back toward the mirror and take myself in. The one-sleeved green satin dress is an eye-catcher for sure, especially with my tan. It hugs my hips and falls mid thigh. There is a big bow on my hip that makes it elegant and sleek, the two sashes falling to the hem of the dress. "If he wasn’t going to be green with envy before, he definitely will now.”
I laugh. "I don’t think so." I walk to the bed and slip on my nude high-heel sandals. One strap around my toes and another around my ankle. "Are you ready?" I ask, and she nods her head.
"The question is, are you ready?" She points at me.
"I don’t think I’ll ever be ready," I mumble, grabbing my suede clutch purse. "But the car is here." I look at the notification on my phone when I’m putting it away.