Page 143 of Fumbled Into Love

“What’s in the box?” I ask, trepidation in my voice. “Is something going to pop out at me?”

This could be a prank to try to get me to laugh, but if something pops out right now, I will lose it and go full She-Hulk.

“Open it,” Sawyer prods, handing me a pair of scissors, and I shakily cut the tape.

The flaps of the box lift and I gasp, immediately recognizing the pattern on the inner box.

“I won?” I sure as hell hope that I didn’t pay the outrageous price I wrote down for the expensive pots and pans. It was more than my monthly rent. My bank account looks no different when I check.

The box holding the high-end cookware is heavy and I awkwardly pull it out, only to find another box beneath it, slightly crushed.

I guess I opened it the wrong way.

I flip the top of the box and my chest heaves unevenly.

It can’t be…

“What’s going on?” I ask, the question shaky, as my brain tries to process the box of macarons beneath two plane tickets to Paris and the ten-day stay at the boutique hotel I jokingly bet on.

Sawyer’s eyes are shiny, but her smile is bright. She swipes at her eyes and my stomach plummets.

“Maren? What is this?”

I can’t catch my breath as Maren packs the items back into the box and hauls it up. “I think it’s time for you to go home.”

“I-I’m not ready.”

I scramble away from the door, so fucking confused that I might burst into tears—again. Where did the cookware andtickets come from? Why is Sawyer crying and Maren insisting I go home?

I’m not ready to move out of Deon’s home.

I’m not ready to say goodbye.

With a gentle hand on my bicep, Sawyer ushers me to the door and into Maren’s car.

“You’re ready,” Sawyer says gently, “We promise.”

Maren cranks her car into park and my body ricochets forward, bobbling around. I’m settling when the door is ripped open and I’m being dragged out of the car and onto the front porch of Deon’s home.

“What thefuckis happening right now?!” I yell, flailing my limbs and Sawyer and Maren each shove my back, causing me to stumble forward.

Are they serious right now?

I’ve never been upset with my friends. They’re both kind, each in their own way, but right now I’m super pissed.

Today is hard for me and this is how they’re going to behave? Is this some kind of tough love?

Shoving me in a car, nearly giving me a stomach ache from Maren’s erratic driving, and then dropping me on Deon’s front porch is not what I would consider a good friendship.

Maren and Sawyer are sprinting to the car and I begin to chase after them, fume escaping from my ears.

“You two are being real shit—”

A deep cough stops me from finishing that insult and I spin, locking eyes with Deon, who is standing on the porch, hands in his pockets.

“See ya later!” Maren screams out her window as they drive off, leaving me stranded in Deon’s driveway.

They are each going to receive a long, thought-out paragraph text message later, outlying my disappointment. This is not how friends treat other friends. Especially not when they’re on the brink of emotional turmoil in the form of irrevocable heartbreak.

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