Chapter Thirty-One
Misty
Watching Zeppelin kiss Chanel felt like a kick right in the vagina. How could I be so stupid and let him in? I knew he loved her—not me—but I thought we had something. He said we did, and I believed him. When he said he wanted Bernie and me, I trusted him.
I fell for it. I knew better, and I fell for it.
“Misty—”
“You stay away from my mom!” Bernie screams. “Go kiss your… whore!”
The word shocks me. I know I should scold her for using that kind of language, but I’m stunned. How the hell does she even know the word whore?
“Let’s go inside,” I say, guiding Bernie up onto the porch.
I knew telling her about Zep and me together was a bad idea, but she wanted it so much. And so did I. But we ended up just where I thought we would. She’s just as upset as I am. Actually, she’s probably more so because my anger dulls the pain right now.
“Learn to muzzle your brat,” Chanel calls out.
The bitch can have the man I’m in love with, but she does not get to call my daughter anything. Even her name. “Baby, go inside. Now.”
Thankfully, my tone tells Bernie it’s time to listen because she does.
Once that door closes, I whip around and glare at Chanel. “Don’t ever call my daughter a brat.” I storm across the street and get in her face. “In fact, don’t ever talk about her at all.”
“Trust me, that wasn’t the worst thing I could have called her. I could have called her—”
“Don’t you fucking dare,” Zep growls in a tone I’ve never heard before. Not even the night he fought with Wylie in the bar.
From the look on Chanel’s face, she hasn’t either. She looks as scared as I feel, and I take a step back as she fumbles in front of him. “Z—”
“Get the fuck out of here before Misty beats your face into the curb for even thinking whatever you thought was okay to say.”
“I didn’t—”
“You fucking did. Just like you always do. You think I’ll be there to back you up and take care of things, but I’m not that guy for you anymore. Get your ass back in your car and fucking leave.”
Swallowing, she slowly backs off the porch and walks quickly towards the park. As quickly as her heels allow, which cause a few stumbles further down the sidewalk that makes me happy. She never looks back, which is preferable because I will curb stomp the bitch.
But now I’m confused. I was pissed when I walked over here, but then he defended Bernie and told Chanel to leave. This doesn’t make sense.
“Misty—”
He’s cut off by a cupcake hitting his chest. A green streak spreads down his white T-shirt as it slides to the ground.
I turn to see Bernie standing behind me holding a container of cupcakes with green frosting and another one in her hand, aimed to be thrown.
“What the hell?” Zep asks.
BAM! Right in the face. Between the eyes. My girl has surprisingly accurate aim. Better than me.
“You’re a big jerk!” Bernie shouts, dumping the rest of the cupcakes at his feet, frosting side landing on the cement. “You don’t deserve my mom!”
She bursts into tears and runs into the house. Zep did what I was afraid he’d do from the very start. When they first started talking, I knew it was a good probability that he’d break my little girl’s heart. And he just did it.
“She threw cupcakes at me.” And then he laughs.
His amusement hurts even worse than watching him kiss that bitch who does nothing but toy with him every chance she gets. Something he seems to prefer over what I offered him.
“We made them for you,” I say, my tone quiet and calm as I look at the dessert on the ground.
His smile immediately falls when I glance up at him briefly, and he wipes the frosting from his face. “What?”
I bend down to pick up the container and stare at the work we did before going to the park. “Bernie wanted to make sure you felt better, so we made them. I remember you said Grandma made them for you with green frosting because it’s your favorite color. So we did.”
My chest feels ready to explode, and I miss the anger. There’s a pressure that feels like my ribcage might burst at any moment, but my heart feels empty. Breathing becomes difficult, but I refuse to break down in front of him.
I knew better, and I didn’t listen. It’s my own fault.
“You made me cupcakes?”
“She felt guilty going to her sleepover last night, and she wanted to make it up to you. She thought she let you down.”
“Misty—”
“I need to check on her.”
He grabs my wrist when I turn away, but I yank it back with enough force that I nearly lose my balance. “Misty, please.”
“You may find this funny, but I don’t. This, right here, is why I didn’t want to move forward with this relationship. I knew this would happen, but I didn’t think you’d be cruel about it.”
“Listen, I didn’t know Chanel was going to do that. I should have, but I didn’t.”
Letting out a dry laugh, I shake my head. I knew she’d do that, and I haven’t officially met the bitch. “It’s not about that. Not right now. You broke my daughter’s heart, and then you laughed, Zep.”
“I didn’t laugh at that!” His eyes widen as he tries to defend himself. “I would never laugh at her pain. It was the fact she threw cupcakes at me. And hit me in the fucking face. That girl has an arm on her.”
He’s right about that, but I just nod and stare at the ground. “Okay.”
“Misty—”
“It doesn’t change the facts. This was a mistake. You’ll never stop letting Chanel toy with you. I gave you a chance not to toy with me, and you blew it. I should have waited to tell Bernie about us. That was my second mistake.”
He runs a hand over his face, smearing the frosting along his skin. If I wasn’t a jumble of hurt and anger, I’d laugh. It’s almost comical. “Misty, please.”
“You did the one thing I told you I was scared of. Even a week of fun was too much of a risk. You knew what I worried about, and you broke Bernie’s heart anyway.”
“Hers? What you both saw wasn’t what it looked like, but don’t stand here and put this on Bernie if you’re pissed at me. Not after how far we’ve come.”
Clenching my fists, I want to scream as unshed tears sting at my eyes.
“You still don’t get it! I’m a mother. My feelings don’t matter right now.
Not when my daughter’s hurt, and you kept telling me to let my guard down.
This is exactly why I don’t. Not only did I lose you, but Bernie lost one of the only people she believed was her friend. ”
“Don’t say that.”
“I’m an idiot. I’m the girl who knew better than to fall in love with a guy like you. I never should have allowed her to spend time with you. It was a lapse in judgment I won’t make again.”
“A guy like me?”
Turning, I wipe my eyes to keep him from seeing me cry.
I won’t give him that satisfaction, and when I face him again, I jut out my chin.
“A guy who wants a woman who treats him like trash. A guy who doesn’t see something special when it stands right in front of him.
A guy who makes a little girl cry after she made him cupcakes.
A guy I thought was different, but I was wrong. ”
“No, you weren’t—”
Even as the tears gloss my vision, I force a smile. “Yeah, I really fucking was. I knew I should’ve trusted my gut. I really hope you got what you needed because I doubt your girlfriend will do what I did last night.”
If the neighbors hear, I don’t care. Let them think what they want. I was dating a biker, so I figure they’ve already made all sorts of assumptions about me.
“Please, it’s not what you think—”
“You’ll think of me when you’re with her. When she can’t give you what I did. But don’t even think about knocking on my door when it happens. Don’t talk to me. Don’t talk to Bernie. We’re nothing but neighbors who don’t even wave at each other.”
He’s no different from any other man, and I was a fool to believe he was.
Turning, I hurry across the street and inside to find Bernie. The guilt of putting her through this weighs heavily on me, and I wish I’d thought harder about this. Made better decisions.
Mostly, I just wish I hadn’t fallen in love with Zeppelin Molloy.