Page 99 of Sugarlips
Eight. Months.Long before Dan and I ever broke up, my “best friend” had been fucking my fiancé.
I curled my arms around my stomach, shoulders slumping, like I could hug away the painful punch in my gut. When I straightened, I exhaled the breath I’d been holding—and to my surprise, a laugh escaped.
A loud, barking laugh.
It grew—the laughter shaking my whole body. I couldn’t seem to draw in a deep enough breath to pause or stand straight or stop laughing.
The whole scene was just so ridiculous. How could I be so fucking dumb? For years, Tanja had been showing me who she was. Only, I didn’t see it. I didn’t listen when she told me time and time again that she wasn’t a good friend.
I so badly wanted to believe in the good in her, I was blind to the bad.
My chuckles subsided and all that was left in their wake was searing pain and rage. This wasworsethan Dan cheating. Tanja’s actions were more of a betrayal than anything my fiancé could have done.
I didn’t want an excuse or a reason. I didn’t even want their fucking apologies. I wanted them both out of my life.
Forever.
I shook my head and raced for the door, pausing beside Tanja. “You and me? We’redone.”
39
Chloe
At 3:45 a.m., my alarm went off.
It’s time to make the donuts.
Literally.
Apprehension fizzed in the pit of my stomach, churning and spitting like a shaken soda. I had no idea what to expect for today. Was Liam going to be there to help me bake? Was he even talking to me anymore?
The rest of the night was a blur. I tried facetiming my sister twice, but she didn’t answer. After finding Tanja and Dan together, I desperately wanted to call Liam. I wanted someone to talk to. Someone who not only knew me but also Tanja and the whole Dan situation.
But I couldn’t. Not because he would have owed me a big, fatI told you so, but because Liam was right. I leaned on him way too much. I reached out to him so consistently and the lines had blurred, even in my own head. Was I reaching out and leaning on him because I wanted to? Yes. Was I also leaning on him because I was addicted to the support?
Also yes.
And that was a bitch to admit.
So many of the romance novels I read seemed to praise the drug-like qualities of attraction and relationships. When you were passionate about someone, you were addicted to them—constantly craving them, needing them. No one had ever stood up and told me that was messed up.
No one but Liam.
I quickly showered and dressed, throwing my hair in a wet bun and not bothering with a stitch of makeup.
Taking the steps two at a time, I rushed downstairs and froze. My rug at the front door was askew. Wrinkled and crooked, like someone had come into my house in the middle of the night.
And the deadbolt at my front door was unlocked.
I always locked my door.Always.
I’m also meticulous about the rugs in my house. I’d spent hours cleaning my house yesterday, scrubbing and straightening the various rooms. There was no way in hell I came home last night, even in my upset state, and messed up that rug without fixing it. Not after I’d spent hours making sure my house was spotless.
Which meant someone had broken in. But when? Sometime between now and when I crawled into bed after getting home from Tanja’s. And that was around nine forty-five last night.
How did they break in? Was I robbed? Did they sneak into my bedroom and see me sleeping? Or more terrifyingly, were they stillhere?
Panicking, I gripped my cell phone in one hand, my text messages open.What do I do?I didn’t want to call 9-1-1 because what if I was just being an idiot andno onewas here? What if last night, I’d justhappenedto forget to lock the door and the rug had slid as I walked inside?
