Chapter 32
OH HOW THE TURNTABLES HAVE TURNED
Sera
“Call Bradley an Uber,” I say to Thane as I rush up the patio steps.
“What’s going on?” he asks, but I’m already through the back door.
I take the stairs two at a time and stop just before I get to the bunk room door. I fix my ponytail, wipe the sweat from my face, and catch my breath before I crack open the door.
“That’s great news,” Bradley says in a hushed tone. “Who is the new baker?”
I know exactly when his fiancée, Veronica, says my name on the phone. His shoulders stiffen, and his jaw tenses. That is the moment I choose to fling the door all the way open and hold my phone up toward him with Veronica’s messages on display. I tilt my head, daring him to speak.
“Hey, babe, I gotta call you back,” he stutters, and hangs up the phone. “Serafina, I can explain.”
“No need.” I grab his suitcase and throw his clothes inside, and toss his backpack over my shoulder. I head downstairs without another word.
“Sera, where are you going? Will you just listen to me for a second?” he begs, and I smile. It’s nice to be on the other side of the table when it turns.
“What was your long game, huh?” I ask, throwing his shoes at him on the stairs from the front door. “Were you just planning on stringing me along forever?”
“It’s not like that. I love you,” he says, trying out a new pitiful persona.
“You wouldn’t know love if it hit you in the face, which I’m about to do if you don’t leave right now.”
He leans against the door, preventing me from opening it, and lowers his face inches to mine. “I. Don’t. Get. Dumped,” he sneers. His eyes narrow, pinning me in place.
I steady my breath, and for the first time in our relationship, I don’t cower. “This. Time. You. Do,” I counter with fire from my belly. I shove his backpack into his chest, knocking him backward. I throw open the front door and toss his suitcase onto the grass.
“You’re pathetic. Get out.”
From the corner of my eye, I see that tiny red Fiat pull up alongside the house.
Bash and Thane are sitting inside, wearing matching pairs of Bash’s Secret Service aviator sunglasses.
Thane steps out of the car, and I laugh through my anger because he looks like a tough guy sitting down, but when he stands he has on a pink flamingo swimsuit.
He keeps his focus on Bradley as he grabs the luggage from the lawn and tosses it in the trunk.
“Looks like your ride is here,” I say, pushing him out the door. “I never want to see you again.”
I watch from the porch as Brad puts his bag in the trunk and folds himself in half to get into the back seat of the Fiat. He looks at me timidly out the back window, and I wave with my middle finger as they drive away.
“I should’ve done this a long time ago,” I say with relief, and step back into the house.
The next message I send is to Veronica, telling her everything.