For reasons I still can’t explain, I read the caption: he was getting married toher.
I didn’t realise I had stopped breathing until my chest started to burn. A dull roar filled my ears as I stared at my phone, hands trembling. The betrayal—the finality—hit me like a punch.
I wiped every social media account. One more ‘I’m so sorry’ or ‘serves you right’ from my so-called friends, and I would have screamed.
As if to twist the knife, Jay tracked me down just to send me a wedding invitation.
A bloody wedding invitation! I was mortified. The wedding day is in June, on my birthday. Humiliation scorched beneath my skin. I felt small, foolish, desperate to curl up and disappear.
I keep telling myself it wasn’t my fault. Our relationship was like a book held too close to my face—only when Imoved it to arm’s length could I read the words. With distance I could finally see the whole story, and now I shove the memories aside just to function.
I can’t believe I was with a man for so long who was so deliberately cruel.
I grab another item and stuff it into the bag. People are no better than the monsters who lurk in the darkness, just waiting for us silly humans to show a sliver of weakness.
The only person I stayed in contact with was the wife of one of Jay’s friends, Amy. She chose to stand by me, which surprised me. Amy wasn’t gentle with her opinions; she never patted my arm or said, ‘You’ll be okay.’ She was livid—furious on my behalf—and never once said, ‘I told you so.’ Instead, she stood beside me, letting me be angry, letting me grieve, letting me hate. Letting me cry on her shoulder. Amy was a true friend.
And then she was gone.
A simple dinner date. A fun night out in the Vampire Sector with her husband, Max. They never came home.
A vampire killed them.
I swallow the lump in my throat. That’s how I ended up with Baylor. Nobody here cares about animals—no shelters, no rescue groups—so it’s just him and me.
Losing Amy was the wake-up call I needed. It wrenched me out of any lingering daydreams about Jay, forcing me to face a real tragedy. My broken relationship was nothing compared to my best friend’s murder.
Now I’m left with a heart full of grief and a depressed, clingy dog.
And now this.
Yeah, it doesn’t even make the top ten.
I sniff, throat tight, chest aching under the weight of it all.
We will be fine. We have to be.
Things must get better. This has to be the worst of it. This has to be rock bottom.
… Right?
When the window opens again, I gather my courage. I’m not the doormat I used to be. I’m learning to speak up for myself.
“You owe me rent!” I shout. “I’ve paid for the entire month, and we have a contract!” I don’t expect to see my deposit again.
“Get lost, Winifred!” Derek yells, sticking his greasy head out the window to glare at me. “Thanks to your mutt, you owe me a new door.”
It begins to rain. “Will you please just stop? I said I was sorry. He didn’t mean to eat the door.”
“I warned you that you could only have the dog stay for a week. It’s been two. I told you no pets!By the time I’m finished with you, no one will rent you a room. You are finished in this town.” It’s not as though he’s landlord of the year. “You should have done the world a favour and had that animal put down!”
I gasp. “So you are a dog killer now?”
“That dog I am. He peed all over my flowerpots. He’s an untrainable menace.”
“Derek, you can’t do this. I have tenant rights. You can’t throw us out with nowhere to go. It’s a death sentence!”
As soon as I say ‘death sentence,’ the nosy neighbours vanish, and the street falls silent.