Total pages in book: 92
Estimated words: 89265 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 446(@200wpm)___ 357(@250wpm)___ 298(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 89265 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 446(@200wpm)___ 357(@250wpm)___ 298(@300wpm)
“I’m sorry,” Walter said lamely, rising to his feet.
“For God’s sake, stop apologizing.” I tried to slip my heel on, but had trouble balancing on one leg. Fuck, why had I drunk all that wine? I hiccuped and hopped around awkwardly on one foot, positive that every eye in the place was on me, until finally, Walter, ever the gentleman, reached for my elbow. Rather than let him help me, I shook him off and shoved the shoe in my bag. “Goodbye, Walter. I hope you and Esther will be very happy together and have lots of red-hot sex. I am taking my beige ass home.” Hiccup.
“Maybe you shouldn’t drive.” He glanced at the empty wine glass. “Was that your second glass?”
“None of your business.” I fished some cash out of my wallet and tossed it on the table. Hiccup. “Have a nice life.”
Then, with as much dignity as I could muster, I slung my bag over my shoulder, held my head high, and walked toward the exit on one high heel and one bare foot, my head bobbing up and down like a fucking carousel horse.
Two
Stella
Outside, I called Emme.
“Can you come get me?” I asked after her breathless hello.
“Now?”
“Yes.” Hiccup.
“Are you engaged?”
“No.”
“Oh, dear. I’ll be there in a minute.”
While I waited, my cheeks flaming, my pride decimated, I imagined the story I might have told about me tonight, had I watched the scene from the outside.
See that woman over there, the Frigid Old Maid getting drunk alone and waiting for her date? So sad how she desperately wants to make a sexy impression—look at the way she’s unbuttoning her blouse and crossing her legs. So obvious. She’s trying way too hard.
I squeezed my eyes shut and shook my head. I didn’t even want to imagine the rest. It was too humiliating.
A moment later, Emme pulled up and I flung myself into the passenger seat.
Her eyes went wide. “What happened? And why are you only wearing one shoe?”
I pulled the door shut. “It’s a long story. One that does not end well for me.”
“No proposal?”
“Not even close.”
As we pulled away from the curb, I saw Fear of Rejection come out of the restaurant. She looked happy.
Maybe I should buy some black lace underwear.
“Want to talk about it?” Emme asked.
“What’s to talk about? I’m an idiot. A boring, beige idiot.”
“Stella! No, you’re not.”
“Yes, I am, Emme. Walter wasn’t being secretive because he was planning a surprise proposal for my birthday—he was being secretive because he’s seeing someone else.” Suddenly the tousled hair made more sense.
Emme gasped. “You’re joking!”
“I’m afraid not. I can’t even decide what’s worse—the fact that he came here tonight to dump me when I thought he was going to pop the question, or the fact that I was going to say yes.”
“Oh, Stella. I’m sorry.”
“Don’t be. It’s my fault. I should have seen this coming.”
“I don’t think that’s true at all. How could you have known?”
“God, Emme.” I propped my elbow on the window and tipped my head into my hand. “Where did I go wrong? I thought Walter was right for me. I thought things were fine. I thought we’d get married and buy a house and have two kids and a dog and some goldfish and some bees, and we’d be settled and happy. What happened?”
“You’d have been settled, maybe, but would you really have been happy?” she asked.
“Yes,” I answered stubbornly, although I wasn’t sure anymore. Had I talked myself into wanting to spend the rest of my life with Walter just because he looked good on paper? Would I have been settling in the wrong way?
“I don’t know, Stell,” Emme went on. “I’ll just be honest—I liked Walter fine, but there was zero spark between you. And I think to be happy, you need spark.”
“But … but what if I’m not capable of spark?”
“What do you mean?” Emme glanced at me, brow furrowed. “Everyone is capable of spark. You just have to find the right person.”
“But what if I’m not good at it? What if I don’t have that sex appeal thing guys like? What if fucking me is like fucking a cold, dead fish?”
Emme’s jaw dropped. “Did Walter say that to you?” she asked slowly.
Fuck. I hadn’t meant to spill that. “No. I never slept with Walter.”
“Did … did someone else say it?”
“No,” I lied, biting the tip of my thumb.
“I don’t believe you,” she said, glancing at me. “Tell me the truth.”
Part of me wanted to deny it, but another part was glad to have it out there. I bit my lip. “Yes. Someone else did.”
“Oh my God, Stella! When?”
“College.”
“That long ago?” Emme shook her head in disbelief, gripping the steering wheel with both hands. “Why didn’t you ever say anything about it?”
“Because it’s humiliating!” I exploded. “You and Maren are so sexy and confident, and you have such great sex lives with your sex god fiancés and multiple O’s, and I’m a failure!”