Page 22 of F*ck You

“What?”

“You can say no, I just want to see who we’re dealing with.”

The fact that he said “we” threw me off, since all this time I’d been dealing with it alone. Not because no one wanted to be there, which was true, but because shutting people out was just something I did. Normally I would have told him to fuck off, but I was tired, and all I wanted was for someone else to take the reins for once. Especially since with me in the driver’s seat, I’d been driving this shit show into a larger shitstorm with my constant spiraling.

I removed the phone from my pocket, turned it back on, and then cringed when dozens of notifications came through as I passed it over. He took the phone and scrolled through, his jaw tightening at all the messages and missed phone calls. His brows scrunched together as he read.

“How well did you know this guy?”

It took me a moment to think about it. “A little over four years. We met when I was in college, and I moved in with him after I graduated. He’s always worked long hours and had business trips, and now I realize exactly what kind of ‘business’ he was doing.”

Creases covered his face as he frowned, growing increasingly displeased with whatever he was seeing on my phone. “He’s called you so many times, your phone won’t even display the amount. And this was only since this morning?”

“Yeah, I stopped paying attention to them.” I leaned my head into my hands, knotting my fingers into my hair to tug and press against my skull. I wanted all of this to stop. Everything. “I need a drink.”

His eyes darted up to look at me. “How much have you had already?”

“Obviously not enough if I still know what’s going on with this shit.”

“Lee—”

“Don’t start that. I may be spraining my liver, but at least it’s made things somewhat easier to deal with. I want it all to stop. The messages, the phone calls, everything.” I lifted my head to meet his gaze full-on. “And you know what’s the most fucked up part? The only thing these people care about is the damn wedding. Whether they’re going to get their deposit back for flowers or a bridesmaid dress, or if I’m going to fight for a refund. Joke’s on them, I don’t care about the money. I just want out.”

“They won’t let you out?”

I shook my head. “Todd—” I swallowed hard. “He’s about the image. He’s most likely pissed that I’ve made him look bad. I set his shit on fire when I left. I burned ‘fuck you’ into the carpet and painted it on the walls. If anyone else saw it before he could get it cleaned up, he’d be furious that I tarnished his otherwise pristine public facade. His missed calls are probably from trying to get the ring back, that’s all he really cares about right now.”

My eyes darted around, searching out my calming liquid right as the front door opened.

“Alright, I took care of it. They’re gone, and he’s been taken to jail. Turns out the fucker was so drunk, he might not even remember anything.” Chase shut the door behind him and joined us at the table. He took in my swollen eyes and the tic in Larsen’s jaw, and his voice was cautious when he inquired, “What did I miss?”

I recounted the story all over again for him, and I was left even more exhausted than I was before.

When I finished catching him up, he had a jaw stiff enough to rival Larsen’s and an angry gleam marring his beautiful blue eyes. He went to open his mouth to say something, and then changed his mind and closed it again. My story apparently rendered others speechless.

“Why did you stay with him for so long?” Chase finally asked once he found the words. “Did you not recognize the signs until you saw the proof?”

I shrugged. “He was the first decent guy to really be nice to me. It’s not something you come across too often. I ignored the feeling in my gut, but when I saw that picture, I lost it, and I did what I should have done years ago.”

Both guys stared at me dumbfounded, as if I had just literally showed them how the Bermuda Triangle worked.

“What? Believe it or not, it’s true. And don’t come at me with ‘but I’m a nice guy’ because, yeah, while you might be a nice guy, this is just how my experience has been. It just is.”

“Alright, fine. Is there anything we can do about it tonight?” Chase questioned.

I shook my head. “Honestly, I’ve been trying to forget it, and even if there is something to do, I just want to rest. You have no idea how long it’s been since I’ve had a legit relaxing time. Too fucking long. The last one I tried to have was interrupted by a Peeping Tom.”

Larsen’s lips twitched at that, and then he deposited my phone in his pocket. I didn’t argue. I didn’t want that thing back anyway. I should have thrown it into the ocean the first night I got here, or even into the fire before I left.

We sat together on the couch, watching sitcoms and laughing. It felt strange to laugh like that, and at first, I was worried something bad would come of it because I wasn’t the kind of person who was allowed to sit and enjoy her time with new friends. I was always the one who had to work extra hard to keep up an image and make other people happy, not be around others who encouraged a genuine smile.

Larsen brought out a bowl of popcorn, which was set in my lap since I was placed between them. I immediately dug in, calming my leaping heart when our fingers brushed against each other in the bowl. I didn’t know if I had the ability to explore that more, or if I was broken beyond repair in the relationship department. Either way, I swatted their hands away to make sure I still got some popcorn.

Throughout the night, I became increasingly aware that they slid closer into me, their arms pressing against mine, eventually making it difficult to continue snacking on the popcorn.

At some point, we became rearranged in a way where I was lying across the couch with my legs over Larsen’s and my head in Chase’s lap as a pillow. I didn’t know how late it was, but I closed my eyes and let Chase’s fingers roaming through my hair lull me to sleep.

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