Chapter 27
TWENTY-SEVEN
BIANCA
“Alright. Just a little more paperwork and this house will be good to go for the next owners,” the realtor says to me.
“Great,” I say with a little fake pep, even though I’m crumbling inside.
I’ve been crumbling for the whole week since the wedding and Waylon’s rejection. Sadie definitely notices, because she won’t leave my lap if I’m sitting and insists on snuggling all the time. At least she makes me feel a tiny bit better.
But she can’t stop the constant loop in my thoughts — that no one will ever choose me for me. That I need to offer them something else to make me worthwhile. With Kyler, he obviously wanted my connections. And with my exes and friends before that, they wanted clout or something equally stupid.
Waylon hurts the most, though. He doesn’t want any industry connections or clout. So the more he got to know me, the more he probably realized that I don’t have much to offer him. Or at least I don’t have enough to offer for him to stay.
I sign a bunch of paperwork and head out to my car. I sit there, zoned out, for a few minutes. It’s Friday, and I’m done with work. But I want to be alone, but I don’t want to go home yet. Even seeing Waylon’s house or hearing Duke and Murphy playing in the yard makes my heart ache.
But sitting in the parking lot, staring off into space, probably looks weird. I start up and drive home. Or to the house, I guess, because home isn’t a definite spot anymore.
When I get home, I let Sadie out before laying down on the couch. When I broke up with Kyler, I had a good, long moping period, but it didn’t feel like this. Like I’ve been excavated and left open in the hot sun.
I look just as rough as I feel too. I’ve been too exhausted to wrap my hair at night or even get my satin pillowcase out, so my curls are a little all over the place. And I have dark circles underneath my eyes that I haphazardly covered with a little concealer.
My phone rings — it’s my mom. The urge to cry suddenly takes over me, but I tamp it way down. If Mom senses that I’m upset, she’ll get my dad, then Dad will also be upset.
“Hi, B,” Mom says when I answer the phone.
“Hey.” I scoop up Sadie and rest her on my stomach.
“What’s up? You sound tired.”
I squeeze the bridge of my nose. Of course Mom picked up on something right away.
“Just a long week,” I say. “But I just sold the house, so I won’t be here too much longer.”
“You did? That’s great.” I hear Mom muffle the phone, as if muting doesn’t exist, and calls out to my dad, “Bianca sold the house.”
“She did what?” Dad yells back.
“She sold the house!” Mom says louder. “Anyway, since you sold the house, when are you moving to New York? We can meet up with each other whenever you get settled. Or if you want help with your move, we can do that too.”
I take in a deep breath and let it out. “Yeah, maybe.”
“You don’t sound very excited,” Mom says. “Do you like it down there?”
I pet Sadie. “It’s complicated.”
“Complicated?”
“I do like it, but it’s…” I try to search for a word that distills the dread I feel at the thought of leaving while also having the urge to flee despite having friends here who I’ll miss. “Complicated.”
“Mmhm. I’m guessing you’ll tell me whenever you’re ready,” she says. I breathe out a sigh of relief. “Just know that we’re here and we love you. No matter what happens.”
I stare up at the ceiling, tears stinging my eyes. My social life might be a confusing shit show, but I can always count on my parents to have my back. And a lot of people don’t even have that.
“Love you too,” I say.
Mom shifts gears and starts telling me about their latest vacation and some event that she went to that had a bunch of drama. It’s nice to just listen to her talk about something that isn’t related to Jepsen or my life at all.
“We’ve got dinner reservations, so I have to go get ready,” Mom says eventually. “But tell us when you’re moving. We have a few things planned and we want to make sure we’re there when you need us.”
I don’t need the pressure to figure out when I’m leaving, but I know Mom means well. “Okay, I will.”
We say our goodbyes and I hang up. Sadie is lightly snoring on my chest, which soothes the bits of nerves left over. I’m not sure what kind of magic my mom does to make everything seem like it’s going to be okay, but I almost feel like I’ll be able to sort all of this out and mend my shattered heart.
I turn on the TV and let it play some show I don’t have to pay too much attention to. It’s a good distraction until Mom’s PR company’s name pops up on my phone. My stomach leaps up into my chest.
“Hi, Bianca?” Flo says. Her grave tone makes my stomach flip upside down.
“Yes, hi.”
“Do you have a second?” Flo asks.
“Yep. I’m guessing it’s bad, so feel free to just drop it on me,” I say.
“Some personal photos of you and less than flattering texts have been leaked online. The source isn’t clear, yet, though.”
I close my eyes and take a deep breath through my nose. I expect a rush of tears coming to my eyes, but I just feel empty.
“Can you send them over?” I ask, even though there’s only one person who could have leaked them. “I can pin down the source based on that.”
“Sure, just a second.” I hear her typing on her end. “Check your inbox. The photos aren’t more than what you’d wear on a swimsuit shoot, to be honest. The texts are more damning.
I grab my laptop and open my email. The photos attached are exactly the ones that I knew they’d be — the ones I’d sent to Kyler and wished I’d never sent, even though they aren’t too racy. Somewhere deep in my gut I knew that he’d probably try to use this against me, no matter how tame they are in comparison to my normal modeling photos.
The texts, which I sent right after those pics, are a whole lot worse, though.
I remember the day I sent them — Kyler had texted yet another girl that I “didn’t need to worry about,” some up and coming model. In a jet-lagged, crabby state, I let it rip on her, dragging her and calling her everything I could think of before laying into Kyler. I don’t even want to read them.
It wasn’t my finest moment, but knowing the context at least makes it make some sense. But still. It’s not a good look, and attaching the photos with the texts make it hard to deny it’s me.
“I jinxed it, Sadie. Of course Kyler wouldn’t leave me alone.” I blow out a breath and she puts her paws on my chest, licking my chin. “He literally said that he’d fuck me over, didn’t here?”
Sadie just curls up against me and sighs, like she’s tired too.
Maybe this is something that could blow over, but if Kyler is on a revenge kick, he could blow it up more. It’s not the way I wanted to start my time in New York, but it might have to be.