Page 18 of From Rivals to I Do

cheeks with kisses until I get her to giggle.

“We will see you soon, okay?” Sparrow says as she’s walking out the door, Daniel already at the car. “And remember, check out that

app! There’s plenty of fish in the sea, friends or otherwise.”

“Alright,” I say with a nod as I close the door behind her, and I watch out the window as the lights on their van light up, slowly backing

away until they’re out on the road and they disappear from sight.

Immediately, as I step away from the window, I’m hit with a gripping sensation of loneliness that makes me start to cry again as I clean

up the table from dessert. Then comes the anger, the bitterness, and the sadness all rolled up into one as I slam my hand on the

wood.

How could he do this to me? To us! And then, after he messes it all up, he has the nerve to come to my home and ask for a place to rest his head? Unbelievable! What a sad sack of crap!

I’m a hurricane of emotions as I finish up cleaning and decide to take a shower, realizing there are still bits of blueberry in my

strawberry blonde locks. I wash it really well before I blow it dry, put on my silk cap, and hop into my pj’s, dragging myself into my

lonely bed.

I’m so tired, exhausted even, but the sandman isn’t on my side tonight. I toss and turn, trying to get comfortable, but my mind is a

buzzing whir that just won’t shut up. The events of the day replaying over and over in my head.

Annoyed, I grab my phone and decide to look up the weather for tomorrow when my finger slips and accidentally hits that blasted

pink heart on my screen, pulling up the Love and Company app.

“Dang it,” I grunt in irritation, but as I go to swipe it away, I pause for a moment. Maybe Sparrow is right. I don’t have to be lonely. I

can just make a couple friends in the area, maybe some other women who’ve been hurt. Maybe we can be as close as the Golden Girls

even!

Except, maybe without all the sass. But instead of making my profile, I lose my nerve, sighing as I put my phone down and stare at the

ceiling.

I don’t need some sort of app to make friends, I think to myself. I can make them at work. There’s also no need to get caught up in anything serious either, that’s for sure.

I mean, I have never known the touch of another man, and even though I feel starved in that department. . . I’d rather feel like this than

get hurt like that again. Like I still am. Missing and pining over a fool who didn’t know what he had. Beating myself up, wondering if it

really was my fault for months and months. . .

No thanks.

I’ll figure it out on my own. I don’t need some computer mumbo-jumbo to help me figure out who I’d be best suited for, friends or

otherwise. That sort of stuff will fall into place organically.

As for men? I don’t even want to look at another one right now, let alone make friends with them.

Chapter six

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