Page 8 of Karma's Kiss

“I don’t even understand what you’re going on about, but I don’t like it. Me messing with Sawyer isn’t going to make you feel better,” I assure her.

I hate having to be the adult here, but one of us has to think sensibly! What she’s suggesting is truly out of the question.

“No, actually I’m pretty confident it will. I love when horrible things happen to my enemies.”

“See, that’s the sort of thing you’re supposed to just think and not say.”

“I didn’t say it. You’re my best friend—anything I say to you doesn’t count. Of course I wouldn’t tell anyoneelsethis stuff. Do you think I’m a monster or something?”

I sigh, knowing I won’t make any headway with her. Kendra didn’t have a tiny crush on Sawyer. She had a deep-seated obsession and he acted pretty heartlessly toward her. Just like Matthew, and millions of other men who think they can toy with hearts and not deal with the consequences of their actions.

Kendra must sense that my stance is weakening.

“One date. That’s it. You just lead him on, same as he did me and Jenna and Laura andcountlessothers. Oh my god, Ibet I could get them all to sign a petition. There are potentially hundreds!”

“Kendra.” I say her name as a warning knowing she’s the type to actually go through with something like that.

“Okay, forget about the petition, but seriously all you have to do is make him think you’re interested and then wham, pull the rug out from under him. Break his heart. Make him weep. Tear him to shreds.”

“You need therapy.”

“I do therapy.” She sounds offended that I’d suggest otherwise. “Every day at noon when my kids go down for their nap, I get to watch an hour of uninterruptedHousewivesand tuck into the ice cream bars I hide inside an empty bag of frozen peas. Oh my god, it’s bliss.”

“MOM!” a tiny voice bellows. “NATHAN PUT MY DINOSAUR IN THE TOILET AGAIN!”

“Duty calls,” Kendra groans. “Keep me posted though. I want minute-by-minute updates.”

“I’m not going through with this,” I insist.

“You will. For me.”

While I eat my breakfast, I contemplate our conversation. There’s no way I’m going to carry out Kendra’s ludicrous plan, but she does have a point about someone needing to humble these men. Matthew, Sawyer…they’re all the same.

I let Matthew break up with me on a Monday and he moved his new girlfriend into our apartment on Tuesday. In fact, it wasn’t even one full calendar day before another woman was flossing at my sink! Using my cereal bowls! Kissing Matthew’s smug face!

Regretfully, I never showed him my anger or my hurt before I left Montgomery. I kept it bottled up because even at the end, I felt like I had to maintain the perfect girlfriend status. MatthewMason fell in love with the shiny version of me, the blonde put-together sorority president. The popular Auburn girl.

“Madison, I just don’t think it’s right to continue to lead you on,” he said the night he ended our relationship, as if we hadn’t been together for four years, cohabitating for the last two. As if he hadn’t slipped his mother’s antique engagement ring onto my left finger and proclaimed I was the love of his life in front of all our college friends.

I almost wish I hadn’t made it so easy for him. The same evening he ended our engagement, we started packing up my things. Matthew already had moving boxes ready to go. This fact hadn’t stood out to me at the time, but now I wonder if he picked them up earlier that day or if he’d had them stowed somewhere for weeks.

“Do you want to take this shampoo?” he asked me. “The purple one?”

“Oh…” I responded numbly. “Sure.”

He dumped it into a box along with my other toiletries.

“What about your shaving cream?”

When I didn’t answer,couldn’tanswer, he glanced over to see me staring down at my shining square-cut engagement ring.

“Listen, why don’t you stay the night? I’ll take the couch in the living room and you can sleep in here. Then you can figure out where you want to go in the morning.”

At the time, it sounded like he was doing me a huge favor. His tone, his inflection, the pitying little smile.Look at me, such a gentleman, taking the couch. I’m even packing up your soaps!

“Matthew,” I called quietly after he’d gone back to packing in the bathroom. “Where’d you meet her? The other woman?”

“Oh, she’s my secretary.”

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