Page 9 of Forever Mine

“Lose my number, okay, Shawn?” I say as I turn to open the bedroom door.

“Already blocked you, babe,” he retorts.

I pull up the Uber app before approaching his apartment door and see a car nearby. I’ll have to pay via my debit on file, but it feels like there’s enough cash in my pocket now to cover the debit. Fuck. I feel weirdly like an escort or prostitute, him throwing money at me after sex. I may have joked to Emily a few weeks ago that I would have to work a corner, but I didn’t really mean it.

Once in the Uber, I grab the cash and count it. Damn. He must have chucked the entire contents at me. There’s over two hundred dollars here! Looks like I’m treating myself to a bottle of wine.

“Can we make a stop? I am in desperate need of some booze,” I tell the driver.

“Bad night?” she asks.

“Well, it wasn’t ideal. Nothing a bottle of wine won’t correct,” I tell her with a wink.

Thirty minutes later, I’m in my pajamas, watching television with the open bottle of Italian Moscato in my hands. Nothing this bottle of wine won’t correct. I already feel so much better as I grab my phone and delete Shawn’s info.

CHAPTER FOUR

Monica

Age 30

"I don't understand," I sniff as I swipe an errant tear from my cheek. My finger comes back smudged with mascara. Great.

"Listen, babe, it's not me. Oh, fuck. I meant, it's not you," Carter says as he nonchalantly winks at a passerby and then very clearly stares at her ass.

"What do you mean?" I ask miserably.

I've been dating Carter for seven months. I thought we were good. We haven't spent much time together over the last month, but I chalked it up to busy schedules. Evidently, I was wrong.

"It's just not gonna work out, babe," he says as he rolls his eyes at the guys sitting at the next table. "Can you stop crying? You're embarrassing me."

Oh, hell no.

Do you know how some people have that moment when their life flashes before their eyes when they have a near-death experience? I'm having something like that right now. Except it's a quick synopsis of the last seven months with Carter. The fact that I've never spent the night at his apartment. Or met any of his friends. The number of times he's commented on my physical appearance or requested I change before we were out in public. Or the fact that I wasneverallowed to access his phone, and somehow he turned it around to make it my fault as to why he wouldn't give me his passcode. Gaslighting, anyone?

A wave of peace slides over me as I see Carter in a new light. I honestly think I was blinded by his hotness. The sex wasn't even that good. Granted, he usually did make me come, but it wasn't every time. And certainly never more than once. I swear, I think men who get women off multiple times only exist in romance books. I'll have to ask Nana. She still reads that shit.

I can see Carter beginning to stand, and I realize he's totally going to jet outta here and leave me with the bill. Hell no.

"Oh, Carter. You know what? You're absolutely right. I should leave," I tell him as I motion for him to remain seated. A contented grin covers his face as he sits back down, and I take the opportunity to grab both our drinks and dump them in his lap.

"What the fuck, Monica?" he shouts.

"Damn. It slipped, honest," I murmur, giving him a sweet smile. "But you should know that you'll regret this one day. We both know I'm the best you've ever had. That thing I can do with my tongue? Mmm. You're gonna regret this, Carter. But that's okay."

I make a show of removing my phone from my purse. Then, pulling up my contacts, I block Carter's number with gusto.

"And, blocked. Done. Whew! That's a relief. Now I don't have to pretend to come anymore. Toodles, asshole!" I outlandishly blow a kiss at him before sashaying out of the restaurant. I vaguely hear clapping as I leave.

I make it to my car before my hands start to shake. God, I feel so stupid. I'm typically so hesitant to trust a man, and somehow Carter got through my defenses quicker than he should. Just goes to show that I can't be trusted to make good decisions when there are orgasms on the line.

I'm making a vow to myself. I'm never getting married. Relationships aren't meant for me.

Two months after the epic breakup with Carter, I'm summoned to my grandmother's retirement facility. I found a great place for her after she finished rehab for her hip. It's a step facility where she has an apartment, but there's also a full medical staff on-site if needed. Nana immediately fit right in and became a social butterfly. The bills are tight, but I'm making it work.

"Hi, Nana, what's up? I don't have much time. I have a showing in an hour," I tell her as I breeze into her apartment and collapse on her couch.

"Bambino. Where's Emily-bemily?" she asks.

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