Page 87 of Running from Drac
In my dream, Amber was with another man. His hands brushing over parts of her only I’m supposed to touch, his lips claiming what’s definitely mine. Even dreaming, I’m jealous of the unnamed man, the guy she betrayed me with in Vegas.
Maybe it’s cold feet that’s making me dream about this again. Yeah, it’s not the first time. I’ve had this dream numerous times since she admitted to cheating on me. Every time I wake up the same way… jealous, angry, and sweating from every pore.
“Fuck!” I rage into the darkness. I’m not sure what time it is. I invested in total darkness shades so that it would blanketmy room in complete darkness. It could be late at night or early in the morning, who knows? Glancing over at my alarm clock, I see that it’s already eight in the morning. Amber had her bachelorette party last night, and I hope to God that Pippa played nice. Not that I expect anything nice to come from that woman.
Reluctantly, I climb out of bed, knowing that I have a hard day of work waiting for me. I’m trying to get in as many hours as possible before next week, since I asked for two weeks off to go on my honeymoon.
After taking a long, much needed shower, I quickly get dressed and grab my keys. Throwing open the door, I find myself face to face with Amber, hand raised mid knock, a somber look of shock on her face.
“Amber? Are you okay?”
She looks like hell. The aftermath of a night of hardcore partying evident in her glassy eyes and permanent frown.
“I’m still a bit drunk,” she admits. “And tired. God, am I tired.”
“Come in,” I tell her, moving to give her a hug.
She takes a step back, halting me with her hand. “I can’t hug you right now.”
Shit…
“We need to talk, Eddie.”
Double shit…
“Okay, what’s going on?”
She moves into the living room, but hovers near the door, almost like she’s making sure she has an exit. Whatever she has to say, it’s not good.
“I need to tell you something,” she starts, looking at her feet that are kicking at the carpet. Her head lifts, and I see tears hovering in her eyes. “We promised each other no morelies and secrets, and that we’ll always be honest with each other, right?”
I nod, hating the way my stomach is already coiling with fear. “Right.”
“So, then I need to tell you something that happened last night. I won’t feel right marrying you without coming clean.”
Goddamn it, not again. Please tell me she didn’t cheat on me again!
“Don’t worry, I didn’t cheat… well, not exactly anyway.”
“What the fuck does that mean?”
She sighs, kicking at the carpet again. “I’m going to preface this by saying I had no idea what Pippa had planned, had I known, I would’ve never agreed to it.”
What the fuck did that conniving bitch do?
“I’m also going to say, I was drunk. Like really, really drunk last night. I think I’ve puked so much that I’m surprised I still have organs.” She chuckles, but it's short-lived when she sees me frowning. “They took me for a spa day and a makeover, and you know how well that went.”
“Uh huh…” My jaw was already clenching, fists balling by my sides, ready for a fight. It’s like my soul knew what was coming before she even uttered the next few words.
“She took me to one of the casinos after that. We were at a club, dancing… drinking. All things you expect from a bachelorette party.”
“Get to the point, Amber.” I don’t mean for my tone to come out so angry. And the way she slightly flinches from it makes the shell I’ve already started building around myself crack and soften.
She wrings her hands together, tears brimming her eyes that are slightly pleading for understanding. “By the time we got to the show, I was so drunk I barely saw straight.”
“Show?”
“An Australian male dance review.”
