Chapter 1 #2
“Hey,” she huffs, “my boss said if you want to sneak up to the bar to pick up the drink, she can pretend to walk into the supply room if you want to throw a drink in his face and deliver it yourself.”
“That would be epic,” I whisper-squeal, trying to pretend I’m excited to confront Jackson.
Excited is the only emotion I’m not feeling, but I’m sure my adrenaline will kick in, giving me the courage to at least throw a drink in his face. It’s kind of a bucket list item after watching all those research videos about ways to break up with a cheater.
“I can read his profile out loud,” Roxy suggests a little too enthusiastically.
I nod my agreement, wide-eyed, too terrified to deny my friend the satisfaction of humiliating him publicly.
“Perfect,” Lisa says, clapping her hands together. “What would you like for the drink? My boss said it’s on the house.”
“Thanks,” Roxy answers. “Give us a mojito, extra mint.”
My lips turn up in a smile I can’t fight off.
“Love you,” I murmur once Lisa leaves with our order.
“You’ve got this, Vi. Confront him for your closure. I know it’s what you want.” Roxy’s tone is soft—full of reassurance.
“Thank you. I couldn’t face him without your moral support.”
“What about later, ya know, when he comes home?” she asks. “Do you want to stay at my place?”
“Let him try to come home. I changed the locks and had a security company come out this morning,” I shrug.
The truth is I’ve been plotting this final stand for months, meticulously getting everything in order so I can make ending this fast. It’s necessary.
I deserve better. I want to be someone’s happily ever after, and I don’t care how many failed relationships it takes to find my Prince Charming.
I refuse to settle for less than being my man’s whole damn world.
Lisa places the drink on a tray at the bar, then gives us a small nod. Roxy swipes open her phone to record the confrontation. “You’ve got this,” she says. “Go get him, soon-to-be-single cougar lady.”
I laugh. I can’t help it. I’m not even close to old enough to be an actual cougar, but I suppose that’s what makes it hilarious. Fumbling with the hem of my dress and adjusting my cleavage, I nervously make my way to the counter to retrieve the mojito.
My hands tremble as I lift the tray, catching Roxy in my periphery, following me like the paparazzi, determined to catch every last second on film.
The need to watch his face drop when he realizes it’s me outweighs my desire not to look at him.
Instead, I imagine tiny swords shooting from my gaze and dive-bombing him.
Each one slicing deep, hurting him the way he hurt me.
Jackson must feel my imaginary attack because a second later his head twists in slow motion and our eyes lock.
Anger ripples through me as I watch his hands grip the table tightly like he’s about to make a run for it.
I reach the table precisely in time to shove him back into his seat with my free hand. My feminine rage kicks in, and suddenly I’m fueled by fury. He looks terrified.
Good. He abso-fucking-lutely should be scared of me.
My lips curl back to reveal a gleaming pearly-white smile. It’s so sickly sweet even a complete jackass can sense it’s too good to be true.
“Now just where do you think you’re going, Jackson?” I purr. “I think it’s better if you stick around for this.”
Before he can reply, I throw the drink in his face. “Cheers to your new life, asshole.”
He screams, rubbing his face with his hands. “You crazy bitch!”
“Jackson! Jackson! What in the hell is going on? Who is this?” the catty brunette hisses from across the table they’re sharing.
“It fucking burns. What the fuck are you doing?” he shouts.
“Waiter,” the girl shouts, waving her arm, but they all pretend not to hear her. “Who the fuck is this, Jackson?”
“I-I-I don’t—“ he sputters, but I cut him off before he can say he doesn’t know.
“Oh, shame on you, Jackson. You know exactly who I am. Now are you going to tell her, or am I?” I raise a brow at him in challenge.
“This is my partner,” he blurts out.
“Your partner?” she questions. “This is your partner from work?”
I laugh. “What Jackson’s trying to tell you is I’m his girlfriend. He’s just trying to spin it to distract from what you actually know.”
“Anyway, I’m sorry it had to end this way after…” I pause. “Oh gosh. Did I ruin your date?” I say, staring the brunette down.
She glares back.
“If you want a loser, scumbag, piece-of-shit like him, then by all means, be my guest and have him, honey. He’s all yours. I’m his ex-girlfriend now.” My tone is cool, calculated, and downright terrifying.
She simply stares at me in disbelief, her jaw gaping open.
I continue, “If it makes you feel any better about being the other woman, you’re nothing special. According to his profile, he’s met up with thirty other girls before stumbling across you.”
She swallows hard, grabs her purse, and stands to leave. “You’re a fucking loser, Jackson. I can’t believe I slept with you.” Then turning to me, not meeting my eyes, she whispers, “I’m sorry.”
“Kat! Wait. Come back. Katrina.” He hollers after her.
“We’re done, Jackson. Don’t come to the house tonight.” My voice is low and controlled. I mean business. “I had a security system installed today, and I won’t hesitate to call the cops.”
“I was done a long time ago,” he scoffs. “What, do you think I don’t have enough money to pay for a hotel room?”
“Sounds like a you problem, not a me problem.”
Jackson continues to pick mint off his face as he glares at me. Silence fills the space between us, but not for long. Roxy is walking over, and she has her middle finger in the air. Her face screams you just fucked with the wrong person, and I’m pretty sure this isn’t going to end well.
“Let’s go, babe. You don’t need this scumbag. Your ex is such a loser. His profile says: Jackson. Investments are my love language. I want to invest my time in the right woman. Looking for a woman who wants to be wifed up and given the princess treatment.”
“Wow!” I shout, clapping my hands together loudly. “And to think you’ve been living in my dead dad’s house rent-free, not paying for shit all this time. Is that what you call the princess treatment? To think, I actually wanted you to propose to me.”
Roxy reaches for me, pulling me against her as she wraps me in a side hug. Once I’m steady, we stroll away in a classic runway walk. We’ve practiced this since the second grade, and we absolutely nail it tonight.
“Don’t worry, babe,” Roxy whispers in my ear, “I tipped them a hundred. I think that covers the scene we caused.”
I think it over for a second. “Yeah, I think that’s fair.”
“You okay?” she asks, bumping my hip once we’re on the sidewalk and walking a half block to the parking garage.
“I will be. I think,” I answer honestly.