Page 7 of Chaos

“And, apparently, it seems like we share everything now, too.” Ash pauses, turning to face me and Brody.

“Isn’t that right?” Ash presses, his hand shaking around the glass.

“Stop it, Ash. I’m warning you. Not fucking now,” Brody hisses.

Ash bursts out into laughter. “What? You don’t think she deserves to know?”

“Know what?” Blood hammers in my ears, what the hell is going on.

“Ignore him,” Brody whispers.

“Well, I fucking think she should know that you’ve been sleeping with my fiancé for the past year. You bastard.” Ash waves his arm out in a grand gesture, like he wants the entire audience involved.

As I release my hand from Brody's, his grip around my shoulders tightens. I shake my head frantically. In the silence of the room, my heart pounds relentlessly in my chest.

He’s fidgeting, scratching the back of his neck, and his cheeks are turning a rosy shade.

Panic rises within me. “Tell me he’s lying, Brody.”

He won’t look at me.

My throat squeezes shut as a sob threatens to escape. “No,” I whisper, my hand tightening around the wine flute.

“Congratulations, Brody. You’ve ruined two people’s lives today. Some best friend you are.” Ash’s words echo through the silence of the assembled guests.

I flinch as the microphone drops to the floor. I can’t even see straight. The room starts to blur.

How could he do this to me? With who? I start to wrack my brains–Ash’s fiancé, Lisa. Where have I seen her before? She’s drop dead gorgeous.

The realization dawns on me. Lisa from accounts at Brody’s firm.

I feel a fiery anger building up inside me as I stand, forcefully jabbing his arm.

“Fucking look at me,” I hiss.

His watery eyes meet mine, and the full weight of the truth hits me. All the sacrifices I’ve made for his career and this is how he repays me.

That’s why he’s pulled away from me. Not to pay for our wedding, but so he can stick his dick in Lisa.

“You piece of shit.”

In an impulsive moment, my fist flies through the air and connects with his cheekbone.

He jerks back, and his palm covers his cheek. “Fuck, Sofia.”

With trembling hands, and ignoring the pain radiating up my arm, I swipe up the wine bottle.

I can’t even bear the sight of him. My heart breaks in my chest as I barge past him, feeling the heat of everyone’s gaze on me as I storm through the marque.

“Sofia, wait.” His call is punctuated by the sound of his chair shoving away from the table.

I stop in my tracks at the door, and with frustration building, I stomp my foot for emphasis.

“Stay the hell away from me. We’re done. Over. Have a nice fucking life.”

He steps forward to grab hold of me, and Anna barrels into him.

“You piece of shit! I knew you were an asshole. But this?” Her painted nails lash out and rake down the sleeve of his suit.

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