He’s cheating on me.He invited me to this gala, and now he’s cheating on me, right here.It’s not out in the open, because we’re in the service corridor, but still, anyone could walk in and see him…her…us.
The anger that fills me is more for myself than anyone else.I should’ve known he would do something like this, because of course he would.
It was stupid to think that someone like him would want something real with someone like me.
I was a fool.All those niggling thoughts that it was time to break up with him, that we weren’t right for each other.Even Sebastian’s suggestion that Joel couldn’t deserve me.I should’ve listened.
Clearing my throat, I tap on Joel’s shoulder.“Care to introduce me to your friend?”
“What?”He spins around and his eyes go wide in surprise.He even has the nerve to look me up and down, undress me with his eyes while another woman’s lipstick stains his mouth.“Ella, hey.Wait.Ella?”
“Yes, dumbass,” I say.
He gapes at me for a few more seconds.“Wow, you look—”
“Who’s this?”the woman asks.She doesn’t use a mean tone of voice; she just sounds curious.She probably has no clue that Joel is already seeing someone.Or that hewasseeing someone.
“I’m his girlfriend,” I say.
She winces.“I’m so sorry—I had no idea.He gave me the impression he was unattached.”To Joel, she says, “See ya, asshole.”
As she walks away, Joel scowls at me.“What the fuck, Ella?”
“You invited me to the gala,” I say.“Or don’t you remember?”
“Oh, right.I didn’t think you were coming.”
“Wetalkedabout it,” I said.“Then you left the ticket on my cart.”
“I didn’t leave you a ticket,” he says, looking puzzled.A grin tugs up the corner of his stupid mouth.“But I’m glad you found one, anyway.You look fuckable.”
“I just saw you kissing another woman, and I have the distinct feeling she isn’t the only woman you’ve kissed—or done more with—while you said you and I were together.And exclusive.”
He shrugs.“Nah, probably not.”
“I guess it’s over, then, isn’t it?”I hate that it hurts me to say it.I shouldn’t care.I don’t love Joel, never have.I never even pretended to love him.But I’d at leastlikedhim.
And it doesn’t seem like he ever liked me.
“Yeah.Sorry, babe,” he says, looking me up and down, taking in my makeup, my hair, my dress and shoes.“You look a hell of a lot better than you usually do.You clean up nice.But to be perfectly honest, I can’t be seen with you.Even when you’re all fancied up.I mean, you tried, and you look good.But it’s not enough.”
Not enough.Story of my freaking life.Not enough money to pay my dad’s hospital bills.Not enough money to pay for school.Not enough hours in the day.Not enough charisma to get a better paying job.
Before I can respond, Joel’s already walking through the service door, back into the ballroom.There, he will no doubt mingle with more sparkling, beautiful women.There, he will find someone more at his level.Not a lowly maid.
I lean against the wall in the service hallway.Nobody’s around—the only caterers left are out there in the ballroom, carrying around trays with flutes of champagne.
So I let myself cry.I’m a little sad, and a lot angry.
I’m not enough.He’s too fucking right.
I’m not enough to be with someone like him.
And what hurts the most is what it means for those ridiculous, perverted fantasies I’ve been getting off to.All those imaginings where his dad, and sometimes his dad’s friend, fuck me until I’m screaming myself hoarse.
They wouldn’t do that, not with me, not with someone who isn’t enough.
The service door swings open yet again because I have the worst luck in the universe.