Page 6 of The Holiday Ex-Files

Chapter Two

Okay, Ex-Filers, here’s your ‘how to rock the single life’ pro tip for the day: If you are having a hard time sleeping alone, sleep in your bed diagonally. Not only does it give you the illusion of taking up more space, but when you turn your head, you’re not met with an empty pillow next to you.

Lots of love,

Cami

I sleep like this every night now. It is totally genius.

I clicked publish before turning back to my new favorite show, Cosmetics and Crimes, and my favorite person, Mara.

Mara and I had a standing weekly date where we ate Thai takeout and watched YouTuber Zoe Moore while she did her makeup and talked about serial killers. It was a bit morbid, but it was fascinating. And I learned a lot—like how I could make my ex disappear without a trace. Not that I would, but honestly, some of these female serial killers had all the luck. One killed like five husbands and never got caught. I bet each one of those husbands was a cheater. Of course, I would never have Ben knocked off, but I’d had visions of what it would have been like if my beautiful tree, all ten feet of it, had come toppling down on Ben and Claudia. I could hardly think of her name without some vomit rising to my throat. I’ll tell you this, it was a marvelous sight picturing them pinned under that tree with a few glass ornaments stuck in Claudia’s perfectly chiseled butt.

Maybe I needed therapy. Yikes.

“Please pass the cashew chicken,” Mara interrupted my evil thoughts.

I handed her the carton and swapped her for the mango sticky rice. Once we were done filling our plates, we both curled our feet beneath us as we sat on my pink velvet couch. Yes, it was another purchase I wasn’t particularly proud of. It looked like I lived in a giant dollhouse. Ben’s cheating did things to me. When I’d furnished my little place, all I’d thought of was what Ben would have hated the most and I went with it. And I think I wanted some of my innocence back. I was all of twenty-three when I’d married Ben. I’d thought I knew it all back then. Back when I believed in forevers and love. And . . . I rubbed my flat stomach. I couldn’t think about it.

“Ooh, I like her flame eyes,” Mara commented. “Do you think I could pull it off?” She batted her gorgeous hazel eyes at me.

I was grateful once again for Mara saving me from myself. “Totally. You could do it for the Halloween Bash and come as Aries.”

She dipped her chin. “You think I should come as a flying ram?”

“A flying ram on fire,” I corrected her.

She tossed her head from side to side, making her shiny brown hair with the perfect amount of caramel highlights swing like she was the star of a shampoo commercial. The Scott family had some serious beauty genes. Admittedly, my ex was gorgeous too.

“You know, I kind of like it.” She giggled.

I set my food down and googled Aries costumes on my phone. Several mythical ram’s horn headpieces popped up. I showed Mara my findings.

“I’m totally doing this. Do you think you could do the flame eye makeup?”

I watched Zoe’s technique on the screen. “I think so.”

“Perfect. What are you going as?”

“I’m not sure yet.” I popped a spicy shrimp in my mouth. Sadly, in another lifetime it seemed, I would have had my costume picked out in July. Ben’s too. He actually loved all of our couples costumes. Not thinking about it.

“By the way, your post was freaking hilarious yesterday. And your engagement is incredible. I can’t believe you’re up to a million followers. You have more than my sister-in-law now,” she growled, “though I use the term loosely. How Ben stays married to someone who refers to herself in the third person constantly, I have no idea. If Claudia Cann, you can,” she mocked the catchphrase of the woman we loved to hate.

Claudia Cann was a fitness guru and influencer. We are talking, she wore a wide-brimmed hat everywhere, type of influencer. She was also ten years older than Ben and everything he ever wanted. Shorter than him, more glamorous than me—with her golden-blonde tresses that always looked perfect, even during the workout videos she constantly posted. All that working out meant she had a killer body. She didn’t even look close to her age. I swore she’d sold her soul to the devil or the collagen gods. No one should look as good as she did. She was so beautiful it hurt, like knife-in-the-heart hurt.

The thought of her had me feeling sick to my stomach. I set my plate of food on the coffee table.

Mara did the same before rubbing my arm. “I’m sorry, Cams, I shouldn’t talk about her.”

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