Page 66 of Accidentally Yours

“I’m happy you’re here.” I smiled, walking over and hugging him.

“This looks amazing, sweetheart.” He grinned. “I’m so proud of you.”

“Thank you. It’s pretty cool, right?”

“Very cool.” A handsome smile graced his face.

“I’m scared, Damien.” I rested my head on his shoulder.

“Why are you scared?”

“What if I fail? What if Curated Chaos is a flop and we go bankrupt?”

He chuckled. “We’re not going to go bankrupt, and you are not going to fail. Put your hormones away, sweetheart. Speaking of.” He leaned down and pressed his lips against my belly. “How is my baby today? Is that so?” He grinned. “She just kicked me in the mouth.” He looked up at me.

I couldn’t help but laugh. “It was an excited kick. She’s excited to hear your voice.”

“Seriously, sweetheart. Stop worrying. This is your world, and I’m in for life.”

“I love you.” Her lips pressed against mine.

“I love you, too.” I clapped my hands. “What can I do?”

“What do you mean?” My brows furrowed.

He glanced at his watch. “Your grand opening is in one hour. What can I do to help?”

“Um, nothing. Everything is done and ready. Don’t you have to get back to the office?”

“Not today. I’m here to support my beautiful wife, and here is where I’ll be all day.”

* * *

I inhaled sharplyas I signaled for Damien to unlock the door. Instantly, the bell above the door jingled as two women stepped inside—one clearly trying not to cry, the other dragging her by the hand. Reaching into the “Emergency Chocolate” bin behind the counter, I grabbed a couple of pieces and handed them to the two women.

“Welcome to Curated Chaos. Someone either dumped you, ghosted you, or said, ‘it’s not you, it’s me,’ but meant, ‘it’s you.’ What are we working with here?”

The crying woman breathed out a laugh. “He said I was too much.”

“Too much what? Personality? Heart? Intelligence? Ovaries?”

Her friend snorted. “All of the above. He was garbage anyway, and now she finally sees him for who he really is.”

“But I loved him.”

“Follow me. I have just the box for you.”

I led them over to the shelf labeledYou Are, In Fact, The Whole Damn Package, and picked up the pastel pink display box.

“This one has a rage candle, breakup bingo, a revenge playlist, a bath bomb labeledLet That Man Go, filled with rose petals and emotional detachment. AScrub That Man Off You loofah, and a tiny bottle of champagne labeledHe’s Gone. Let’s Glo Up.”

Out of nowhere, the crying woman threw her arms around me. “I think I love you.”

“Aw, I love you, too. So, get in line, babe. There’s a whole wall of women I’ve emotionally revived, including myself.” I smiled.

Nestled in the shop's back corner, between theScents of Closurecandle shelf and a wall of more breakup boxes, was the Self-Love Snap Spot—made for healing and flexing. It was a floor-to-ceiling wall covered in shimmering pink tinsel and bold vinyl letters that read: Cried Less. Looked Hotter, with a neon heart in blush pink and the handle @CuratedChaosShop.

“Thank you for stopping in, committing to heal yourself, and your purchase. If you’d like to show the world you’re handling the breakup like a queen, you can step over to Self-Love Snap Spot and take a selfie with your box. Don’t forget to tag me.” I grinned.

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