Page 11 of Black Lace

Dec clearly got Jasmine’s message about Ben cheating on me.

“No, you won’t,” I sigh, breaking our embrace and heading back to the sofa.

“Yes, I will. I don’t like seeing you cry.”

Dec sits next to me and puts his arm around my shoulders, pulling me toward him, so my head rests on his chest. His heart beats rhythmically in my ear, and it’s oddly soothing. I continue to cry, and he simply holds me while I do.

“He never would’ve done it if he wasn’t high,” I tell Dec once I’ve finally managed to pull myself together.

“I get that he was on drugs, but he knew you weren’t there. He knew it wasn’t you. I don’t understand how he can ever have wanted anyone but you, no matter how high he was.”

Dec’s words are full of venom, his entire body coiled tight like a spring, and his anger is like something tangible in the room around us.

“He’s sorry. He apologized to me, but I just can’t get that image out of my head, Dec. Ever since he told me, it’s all I can think about.”

I shudder as visions of my ex-fiancé fucking another woman come flashing through my mind.

“I see him touching her. I see him kissing her. It’s like watching a movie that picks up right when that picture was taken. They go somewhere quiet in the club and… fuck, I just see it all.”

Dec puts his other arm around me to hug me tighter as I start to cry again.

“I’ll kill him,” he repeats, whispering it into my hair.

“No, you won’t,” I say again through my tears. “He’s been your friend for years.”

“Yes, but you’re my friend, too. Plus, he’s in the wrong.”

His words are comforting, because some part of me is aware that our entire friend group is going to have to choose sides in this.

It’s warm and safe here in Dec’s arms. I can’t believe how badly everything in my life has been fucked up in less than a day.

“I don’t even know what I’m going to do now, Dec.”

“Have you canceled the wedding?”

The reminder of my wedding sends a shooting pain through my chest. “Shit, Dec, give me five seconds. We literally broke up two hours ago.”

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to sound like I was pressuring you. I’m just trying to figure out what needs to be done.”

I appreciate his concern, but I can’t even face thereality of the fact that the wedding I’ve waited for years to have won’t be happening now.

“I went to Ben’s,” he says, sounding guilty, and I snap my head up to look at him.

“What did he say?”

“He wouldn’t let me in.” He gives me a chagrined smile. “It’s probably for the best. I don’t know if I mentioned this, but I want to kill him.”

I can’t stop myself from laughing, but as I do, I catch sight of a framed photo of Ben and me in London that’s sitting on the mantelpiece nearby.

“How can I stay here, Dec? Everything here reminds me of him. It’s just so full ofus.”

The tears are threatening to fall again as I look around my apartment. There are so many reminders of Ben. The crystal vase and rose he gave me for our anniversary last year. The painting I bought at an art show we attended together three years ago. The tapestry I purchased on our trip to India. The sofa we sat on together for our movie nights… the one I recently sat on when I ended our relationship.

“Come out to the Hamptons with me.”

The suggestion comes out of nowhere, and I blink at him in surprise. “What?”

He stands up from the sofa, grabs hold of my hand, and pulls me up to stand before hugging me again.

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