Jolene
I watched Dakota pour himself a shot into one of the glasses they kept in the cabinet.
Look at him being all professional with it while I’m swilling from the bottle like a neanderthal.
“Want a shot?”
I held up my bottle before tipping it to my lips.
The burn was back, evidence that it had been too long since my last gulp.
“We need to eat something, Lena.”
I wrinkled my nose in disgust.
“Yeah, no. This works.” Another gulp.
Shrugging, he turned up his own bottle.
Thank you for abandoning the shotglass, Mr. Fancy Pants.
I threw myself down on the sofa, nearly sliding off as the satin struggled to grip onto the leather.
“Please don’t break your damn neck. Why are you still wearing that?”
Because I didn’t have the fucks to change, bro.
“I hadn’t been here but a few minutes when you busted up in here like the fuckin’ feds. Whiskey was more important than wardrobe,” I pointed out.
“You look like a fuckin’ cupcake,” he muttered before turning his bottle up again.
First of all, rude. Second of all, I paid a lot of money to look like a fuckin’ cupcake and I’ll fight you with one titty out and the law on the way.
“I like my dress, thank you very fuckin’ much. I don’t give a fuck if you don’t.”
He looked shocked.
“I didn’t say I didn’t like it. You look beautiful.”
My heart lurched and I felt the tears threaten.
“Thanks, Dak.”
“Anytime, Loo. Do me a favor?”
A favor? Now?
“What?” I snapped.
“Can you cool your jets a little? Same team, girl, same team.”
My scowl softened.
He’s hurting too, Lena. His world was just ripped away from him, too.
“I’m sorry. I know you’re hurting, too,” I apologized.
With the bottle to his lips, he nodded, chugging down an amount that would have left me unable to walk.
He threw himself down next to me on the couch.
“Did you have any signs?”
With new tears threatening, I shook my head.
His sympathetic blue eyes washed over me.
“Me, neither. How did you find out?”
Taken aback by his question, I tried to find my voice.
“I had just gotten to the church and Mama wanted to go find Daddy to fix his tie, but she couldn’t find Cassie,” I rambled. “I told her she was probably in her mama’s office, so I went to look and…”
“And what?” He demanded.
I sighed. “And he had her bent over her mama’s desk. Her damn maid of honor dress was hiked up around her hips. His tuxedo pants were around his ankles.”
He shook his head in disgust.
“Sounds like a goddamn bad porno.”
Nodding in agreement, I took another swig.
He reached over and touched my satin covered knee.
“I’m sorry, Lena.”
The look in his eyes broke the dam behind mine and fresh sobs washed over me. He pulled me into his arms and let me cry, doing his best to disguise some tears of his own.
I guess if you’re going to be brokenhearted, the best way to do it is with your buddy and some booze.