Page 104 of Whatever Lola Wants

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“Lola…”

She shook her head. “And we’ll go back to being friends. I’m sure we’ll see each other at Anna and Grant’s house, or at the club.”

There was a horrible weight on his chest, making it hard to breathe. “I didn’t mean to hurt you.”

“I know. I’d say it’s okay, except it’s really not. But I do understand.”

Her gaze flicked away, then met his gaze again. “I don’t really feel like going out tonight. You should go on to the club without me.”

He nodded stiffly, feeling like he should say something. Anything. But nothing came to mind. He could only stand numbly as she crossed to the door and opened it. Could only walk past her, struggling to find a way to make this right. To erase the hurt from her eyes, and the hollow feeling in his own belly.

There was nothing.

He walked out the door, then turned back. She looked so small, in her ripped jeans and oversized sweatshirt. He wanted to scoop her up and hold her until the pain in her eyes went away.

But that wasn’t his job anymore.

“Lola.”

He watched her eyes fill with tears, saw her battle them back. “Goodbye, Simon,” she said and quietly, firmly, closed the door.

And there was nothing left for him to do but walk away.

“Are you sure you’re okay?”

The question, asked and answered at least a dozen times since Anna had arrived on her doorstep at nine o’clock on Sunday morning, almost made Lola laugh.

Almost.

“Anna.” Lola set down the cinnamon bun she didn’t want and curled up in the corner of the sofa. “I’m fine.”

“You’re not fine.”

“Okay, I’m not fine. I’m sad and I’m hurt and I’m depressed, all of which is completely normal considering I just broke up with someone I cared about.”

Anna’s face crumpled in sympathy. “Honey.”

“But I will be fine. It might take a while, but eventually, I will be fine.”

“I hate that fucker,” Anna growled. “I wish he wasn’t Grant’s best man. I can’t believe he treated you like this, and next week I have to have him standing up there when I get married.” Her eyes widened. “Oh, shit. I didn’t even think about the wedding. What?—"

“It’s fine, honey.”

“But you’ll have to see him. Walk down the aisle with him.”

The stricken expression on Anna’s face had Lola reaching out a reassuring hand. “I’m a big girl, Anna. I’ll be okay.”

“I hate that fucker,” Anna said again and Lola sighed.

“No, you don’t.”

“I might hate him,” Ginger put in, coming in from the kitchen with a bottle of wine and three glasses. “I’m happy I stun gunned him in the middle of a blow job. I wish I’d zapped his balls.”

Lola held out her hand for a glass of wine, sipping gratefully. Her head felt muzzy, her throat raw, the result of crying off and on for most of the night. The cool Chablis was a soothing balm on so many aches.

“Thanks, sweetie.”

Ginger clinked her glass to Lola’s. “Anytime. I’ve still got the stun gun, you know.”