Chapter 22 – Six days post spartan race
Chapter Twenty-Two
MAGNOLIA
SIX DAYS POST SPARTAN RACE
I lay in bed staring up at the ceiling, dreading the day ahead of me.
Everything felt heavy—my muscles, my bones, my heart.
The sun had been up for two hours. My alarm had gone off forty-five minutes ago.
But there was no reason to haul myself out of bed yet.
Not when it felt like I was in mourning.
I blinked back tears—every Dupree’s face etched in my memory as the most heartbroken version of themselves, right after the kiss.
I grabbed my phone from the nightstand to distract myself. Instagram should do it. Cat videos, wardrobe polls, personality quizzes. You name it, I could kill some serious time on my favorite social media app.
I tapped on Instagram, but I never made it past the first reel in my feed.
Because right there staring back at me was none other than Bowen Davis Dupree.
He was sitting in the ‘hot seat’on the set of the Breaking Curfew with Nate Midnight Show.
Wearing a black suit and black tie, he looked like something off the cover of a magazine.
His hair was pulled back into his typical man bun. But… something was different.
My pulse stumbled. He’d taken out his eyebrow piercing. It felt like a slap across the face.
The camera cut wider and my pulse tripped again.
Because more shocking than the missing metal was who was sitting beside him.
His old girlfriend, Nova. Hair blown out, makeup on point.
The girl was so pretty, I cowered just looking at her.
Wearing a tight, deep red mini dress, she sidled up as close to Bowen’s side as she could get, practically in his lap.
She looked perfectly cozy tucked under his arm, her long, gorgeous legs crossed elegantly at the knees.
Okay, this felt like an actual backhand.
“Dang, you Duprees are easy on the eyes,” Nate Midnight drawled from behind his desk.
Bowen chuckled, like getting hit on by straight, male talk show hosts was commonplace for him.
Nate slapped the top of the desk. “So happy you’re here, Bowen.
We haven’t had any of your relatives on our set in a long while. ”
They hadn’t had any Duprees on their set in a long while because the Duprees had boycotted Nate after he allowed Cash’s gold-digging ex to spread lies about Charlie from the very same couch Bowen was currently occupying.
Of all the Duprees who I thought might forgive Nate first, Bowen was at the very end of the line.
Bowen never showed his full face in public. Not on social media, TV, or anywhere else, for that matter. James always teased him that he had a phobia of being turned into a meme. Bowen never denied it. So what was he doing, chilling on late-night TV like it was no biggie?
“Good to be here,” Bowen said coolly. He looked right at the camera, and it felt like his gaze cut straight through the glass and directly into me. He tightened his arm around Nova. “Just wanted to support my girlfriend and her upcoming TV show.”
Did he just stab me straight in the heart?
It felt like he stabbed me in the heart.
My eyes watered and my chest swelled, my lungs unable to contain the hurt.
A rogue tear slipped out of my eye. I wiped it away angrily.
It wasn’t like I’d laid around pining, scheming ways to be with him.
I hadn’t. Hadn’t sent him a single text.
But this just felt hateful. Like he was purposely trying to wound me.
Or make a statement. Either way, his message was crystal clear.
Nova tittered and pressed a kiss to his cheek. “He’s so sweet like that. I’m so glad we’re finally back together.”
“Me too.” Bowen chuckled, but then he took a swig from a water bottle, looking super uncomfortable.
“I hope you marry that mindless airhead,” I hissed, “Make a dozen dingbat babies, and she forces you to take duck face selfies every day for the rest of your life.”
Bowen had told me once that things never worked out with Nova because there was nothing inside that ‘pretty head of hers.’ He said he had to carry every conversation, ‘if you can even call them conversations.’ She always steered them back to her career, or how many followers she had, or if he thought it was time for her to start getting plastic surgery.
Nova trailed a fingertip down Bowen’s forearm and I rolled my eyes.
“Nova,” Nate Midnight said, arms out wide. “Tell us all about your new zombie office comedy, ‘Dead on Deadline.'”
“Zombie office comedy.” I huffed.
As Nova opened her mouth, I flicked the reel from my screen. I couldn’t care less what she was about to say—and I didn’t want to look at Bowen’s irritating face for another second. As a matter of fact, I was highly offended that someone so horrible had been gifted such ridiculous good looks.
Right then, a text came through from Charlie.
Charlie
Oh my gosh, Maggie, I’m so sorry. I have no idea why Bowen’s being such a douche. I wish I was there to give you a hug.
Her kind words unlocked the floodgates, as kind words often do. I reread the message three times while I let myself cry it out. Then I pulled up my big girl panties and texted back.
It’s whatever. How’s Griff?
If Bowen was going to make it clear that he didn’t give a crap about me, the least I could do was care about the boy who had cared about me.
Griffin deserved that. Even if he had sent me a middle-finger emoji the five times I’d texted and the two times I’d called to apologize.
I couldn’t blame him. If someone had done to me what I’d done to him, they would’ve woken up to a flaming paper bag of dog doo-doo on their front porch.
Charlie
He’ll be okay.
She left off the word eventually but I felt it keenly. Griff wouldn’t get over this any time soon.
Charlie
I didn’t even know Bowen and Nova were back together until just now. She makes him crazy, if it helps any.
It does.
But I didn’t want to think about Bowen anymore. Definitely didn’t want to think about Bowen with Nova.
How’s the tour going?
The day after the race, Charlie had hopped on Ford’s tour bus with Cash, and they’d taken off to travel the country together. No doubt, they were spending more time making out than practicing his songs.
I was happy for them. Truly. It had taken years to get their happily ever after. If there was a couple anywhere in the universe that deserved it, it was those two. But it felt like there was a car parked on my chest.
I need some happy news. What’re you doing right now? Send me pics!
She responded immediately, sending a photo of the two of them tangled around each other, grinning up at the camera, kicking back in one of the oversized bus recliners.
Charlie tried to keep up our friendship after that, but every time she texted, the hurt resurfaced. I could only imagine how she felt whenever I replied, knowing we’d never be friends again. Not in person anyway.
So after a few weeks, I left her on read here and there. The longer time went on, the more dead space I allowed between conversations until eventually, our friendship was nothing more than a memory.
Along with the rest of the Duprees.