Page 44 of I Did Before I Do

Why?

How could you?

I didn’t type any of it.

What good would it do? He’d have an excuse. Men always had excuses. They could always justify their actions.

It never mattered that I was hurting over their actions.

I tossed my phone back into my purse and grabbed my glass of wine. There were boxes in the living room that I could go through. It wasn’t fun, but it would keep me occupied.

It would keep me from thinking that maybeIwas the problem.

I took a long drink from my glass, then refilled it and moved to sit on the floor in front of the boxes. There were only a few, and even if I only went through one, it would make me feel like I’d accomplished something.

The top of the box was filled with framed photos. Most of them were my family, my friends. There was a photo of Kenzie and me at our high school graduation, and one of her holding the beautiful cake she’d made for my going away party.

Congratulations, Sydney and Mark!was piped across the top in teal icing.

Fucking Mark.

Fucking Ryker.

I closed the box again.

Both of the men I’d been with had just…lied to me. My whole relationship with Mark was based on a lie, and my time with Ryker was the same.

He’d sent me flowers and then tried to take another girl home when I had to work through our date.

I thought about throwing my wine glass against the wall. But cleaning up red wine was a bitch, and I didn’t want to deal with that on top of everything else.

I finished the glass, staring at the boxes like they were the enemy, not men. When the wine was gone, I got up and trudged down the hall.

I fell into bed, pulling a pillow to my chest to muffle the sound of my sobs.

Chapter Eighteen

Ryker

I went home alone.

I mean, as much as she had wanted to, Emily was in no shape to go home with anyone. And neither was I.

Sydney had jumped the gun, but who could blame her? I didn’t know what Kenzie had told her about me, and I’m sure it looked like I was trying to get Emily to go home with me.

I had to explain it to her, but I needed to wait a little while first. Give her time to cool down.

Women, in my experience, listened better when they weren’t furious.

It was hard to sleep, though. I kept thinking of the look in Sydney’s eyes as she’d turned away from me.

After tossing and turning for hours, dozing when I could, I gave up.

At least the gym I went to was open twenty-four hours. Working out at four in the morning wasn’t the worst decision I’d ever made.

I packed a bag and headed to the gym. I was the only one there—no surprise—so I didn’t bother with headphones, I just turned on some angry music and letting it play in the empty gym.

It felt good to burn restless energy. It felt good to listen to hard music and focus on lifting. I tried to concentrate on what I was doing, on keeping the right form and posture and not letting myself do anything stupid.

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