Page 77 of The Fake Dating Plan

“Care to explain?”

Should I bother? Or would he take whatever I say and twist it? “Chad owns the studio we used for our photoshoot. There’s nothing more to that.”

“And you want me to believe that?”

I was about to launch into an explanation. Defend me and my honor until I realized something. It took me that moment for it to finally click. I shook my head at how long it took me. “What’s so funny?” he asked when I let out a huff.

“I wasn’t the one who was in the wrong back then. Or even now. You were and still are.

“Emilia.”

“I’m done.” I stood and grabbed my purse. “Your jealousy and over-possessiveness destroyed our relationship. Not me. I did everything right and the moment you even thought I side-stepped you kicked me out of the curb like a dog.” I scoffed. “And to think I blamed myself all this time. For nothing. Fuck you Ax. I don’t need to justify myself to you.”

He stood up. To stop me, or to kick me out? I didn’t stay long to find out. I made my way out of his apartment and out of his life.

I slumped back into my chair, stunned. I wasn’t done. I wasn’t done and yet she walked away. I was supposed to be the one to kick her out, not her leaving me alone with two bowls of mushroom soup. The urge to run to her was strong. I had to grip my chair so I won’t run into the cold snow so I would beg for forgiveness. That feeling was irrational. I should be angry for chrissake, not pining after her.

The chef came in with the entree and was about to set it on the table when I shook my head. “Dinner is canceled, Gary,” I said to the chef. “You and your staff can go.”

He merely nodded and returned to the kitchen with the food. I sighed and threw my face into my hands. That little witch. She outsmarted me. I had a whole thing planned where I would make it seem as if I was about to propose and then ambush her with the truth. That was the purpose of the candlelight dinner and all the trimmings. It was so I could catch her off-guard, but the moment I saw her, all sorts of emotions, anger, hate, jealousy, lust, rolled into one confusing ball that made me execute my plan in the worst way possible. Rage was added to the mix when I could confirm that image of her and Chad and where it came from.Thattipped me over.

Needing a potent drink, I stood up and went to the bar and poured myself the cognac my father gave me. It went down my throat smoothly but was deceptively strong. Exactly what I needed, a complement to my feelings. I gulped it down in one go and poured another glass as the image of one woman floated back into my mind.

She was wrong. I wasn’t the one at fault. I didn’t cheat on her twice. I was faithful even when we were faking it. Maybe I should call Gia and wallow my sorrows in her pussy. At least I knew what the score was with her. I took out my phone ready to call her and threw it on the bar counter. Who was I kidding? I wasn’t going to enjoy her presence and the sooner she walked in here, the sooner I would want her out.

I took another swig and another one until the image of Emilia faded into my dreams.

“Ax!” A familiar voice was calling me from the deep recesses of my slumber. I felt a nudge and then a shove. “Wake up!” I opened my eyes to see my mom standing in front of me. I sat up straight and straightened. My neck hurt and all my back were numb from sleeping awkwardly on the bar counter. I opened my eyes wider so I could focus. My head was heavy from the onslaught of the hangover. The sun was streaming in from the windows making it worse.

“Good morning mom,” I croaked.

She turned her gaze to the empty bottle on the counter and turned back to me, eyebrows lifted.

“It was half-full when I drank it.”

“Everything okay?” she said, walking past me, peering and checking things about.

“Why wouldn’t it be.” I tried to stretch my neck, but it only worsened it.

“I don’t know. How about my son drooling on the bar drunk next to an empty bottle of cognac?”

“Again—”

“Yes, yes. It was half-empty, as you said. What is going on? Is she here?”

There could only be oneSheMom would be referring to. I shook my head.

“Is she the reason for that?”

I hate how my mother knew me so well. I nodded.

She sighed. “What did you do now?”

“Why are you blaming me already?”

“You must have done something wrong. That is the only explanation.”

I got up from the barstool, straightening my legs. “Maybe she was the one in the wrong.”

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