“Thank you,” I say. “Do you think he ever loved me?” I ask, the alcohol diffusing my senses, while a black hole swallows my heart completely.
His face transforms into a picture of conviction. “He doesn’t know how to love.”
“But he fooled me so well. I trusted him…” He broke more than my heart, he broke that frail trust I had.
I lose count of the number of shots I drink, and when I stumble off the stool to go to the bathroom, the bar spins, and I get nauseous. Brandon staggers behind me and inside the bathroom, we throw up the content of our stomachs next to each other.
“I am never drinking again,” he groans, while I empty another round of alcohol.
“That’s a waste of alcohol.” I plop down on my ass and laugh, until it turns to ugly sobbing.
“I still love him so much.”
How is this possible? I hug my legs and place my cheek on my knees, rocking myself.
“Love is the worst thing that could happen to us,” Brandon says.
I push myself up and lift him, too.
“I can’t go back to him, and I don’t want to go back home.”
“You can stay at my place. It’s the least I can do.” He calls a cab and we climb inside. We stumble through the door, and I drop on the bed.
My brain whooshes like a train station, and I massage my temples. I open one eye, and the sun that peeks from behind the curtains increases the agony of my battered heart and hungover body. Next to me, Brandon snores so loud, the bed might start to shake any minute, and a small chuckle escapes my lips. Then I remember everything. Kian and Melanie, the pain choking my heart, and tears blur my vision. The baby hairs of my body stand up, and I feel watched.
When I lift my eyes, Kian is leaning on the doorframe, undiluted hatred crossing his face.
What does he want from me? He shredded me to pieces. I scoot myself up and stare back at him.
“Now that you have had both of our dicks, who fucked you better?” he asks in a cold, dead voice.
As if he dropped an ice bucket on me, his chilly voice sends tremors down my body. Something in me switches; it’s the pain over his betrayal. He didn’t hear me out, preferring to assume I could do something like this. I jump from the bed and walk up to him. His nostrils flare, and I shove my finger in his chest.
“He is better. You’re right, every woman ends up picking him, because he’s better in every way.”
There’s a brief moment of pain exploding in his eyes that makes me want to take my words back but he smirks and I spew more venom.
“We’ve come full circle, don’t you think? You broke my heart, I broke yours.”
“But that’s where you’re wrong. Betrayal demands a response, and I always fucking deliver.” He leaves, and it’s not his threat that rips me apart, but the fact that just one day ago we were planning our wedding.
I fall on my knees, and Brandon stirs in bed.
“Why did you say that to him?” Brandon asks, his brow furrowing in confusion.
“Because that’s his weak spot, and he broke me.”
“Is it true that he thinks everyone chooses me?”
I nod, and a pensive look crosses his face.
“I need a break from this mess. I thought it would make me happy seeing him lose you, but he sounded dead.”
Someone starts pounding on the door. When Brandon opens it, Kendrick punches him in the face.
“You stupid brat. What did you do?” Murder is etched in his black eyes, and my eyes go round at seeing him this unhinged.
“Did you tell her about the plan you cooked up with Melanie. Are you proud of yourself?”