Chapter One
I’m a cliché.
For a full thirty seconds, that was all I could think. I literally stood frozen in the doorway of my bedroom watching my fiancé and some woman with blonde hair and a fake rack as they went at it in my bed, and all I could think about was the fact that I was a walking cliché.
This isn’t happening.
The second thought that went through my head: I was dreaming. Obviously. There was no other explanation. I mean, Kevin and I were getting married in four days, so this couldn’t be real. He wasn’t screwing some woman doggy style in the bed that we bought together. On the sheets my mom had given us last Christmas. I was asleep and caught in the middle of a nightmare. Pre-wedding jitters or something crazy like that.
“Harder,” the woman my fiancé was banging gasped, making her sound like someone straight out of a porno.
That was what finally jolted me out of my trance and brought me back to reality.
I’m going to kill him.
Thought number three had me ripping my gaze away from the people in my bed and looking around the room for a weapon. A hunting knife or spear or sword—none of which were things I actually owned, let alone had in my bedroom. If I could just get my hands on something sharp I could go all Lorena Bobbitt on this asshole.
The vase on our dresser was the first thing I focused on. It was a hideous orange thing that Kevin’s mother had bought us as an engagement present, and something I never would have displayed if he hadn’t forced me to. You wouldn’t want to hurt her feelings, now would you? That’s what he’d said, and at the time it had made sense. No. I wouldn’t want to hurt my future mother-in-law’s feelings, but at that moment I desperately wanted to hurt my ex-future husband.
Without even thinking about what I was doing, I snatched the vase off the dresser and flung it across the room. It hit the wall above the bed and shattered into dozens of pieces that rained down on the couple. The blonde screamed and Kevin threw out a couple choice words that would have made his dear, sweet mommy blush, and I started to shake.
That’s when I felt the crack in my chest. When the vase hit the wall pain shot through me so fast that it almost felt like the vase had hit me. Like it had cut me into pieces and left me broken and bleeding on the bedroom floor.
“What the hell?” the blonde screamed in a voice that was so shrill I had the urge to cover my ears.
My fiancé, the man I’d thought was the love of my life, turned my way, and the expression on his face reminded me of someone who was staring down the barrel of a gun.
“Jane?”
Kevin grabbed for the sheet, somehow knocking the blonde off the bed in the process. The thump of her naked body slamming into the floor was louder than a cannon. She swore and sat up, but didn’t get to her feet. Only the top of her head was visible from where I stood, which was fine by me. Was she hurt or just hiding? I didn’t know for sure, but I couldn’t help hoping that she’d broken a rib or her wrist or something else that would keep her from screwing other people’s fiancé’s for a few weeks.
Kevin wrapped the sheet around his waist and tried to scramble toward me, but the thing was tucked in and all he managed to do was fall on his face at the foot of the bed. He shoved himself up onto his knees and stared at me with his mouth open like he wasn’t sure what to say or do next.
“Jane.” His Adam’s apple bobbed a couple times. “Jane, I can explain. This isn’t what it looks like.”
“Why do people always say that?”
My voice was calmer than I thought it would be. Calmer than it had any business being. It didn’t make sense. My life as I knew it was over. Kevin and I had been together for over eleven years. Since I was sixteen years old. What would I do now? How would I face my friends and family?
“I—” Kevin slammed his mouth shut and his eyes went to the blonde who was still on the floor. When he looked back at me he said, “I’m an asshole.”
“Yes. Yes, you are.” I squeezed my eyes shut when the room swayed.
What now? What would I do now?
Our wedding was four days away and we were supposed to leave on our honeymoon on Monday. Six days from now. I was already packed, though. I’d moved everything out of my apartment last week and had taken the opportunity to get my suitcase ready to go. It would save me the stress of having to worry about it the week of the wedding. There were so many other things I’d have to worry about and I’d known that I wouldn’t want to have to add packing to that list.
I had family coming in.
Dozens of last minute details.
The rehearsal dinner to worry about.
My bachelorette party.
Now, it was all pointless. None of it would mean a thing.
“Jane?”
I opened my eyes to find Kevin staring at me while the blonde woman stood behind him. Still naked. That’s when I recognized her. Jillian. Kevin had dated her for a few months two years ago when we’d broken up. I’d wanted to get married but he’d said he wasn’t ready, so I’d told him I’d had enough. If he wasn’t ready to marry me after almost nine years together, he’d never be. That’s what my mom had said, anyway, and I’d agreed with her. When Kevin came crawling back only four months later, he’d had a two-carat diamond in his pocket and tears in his eyes.
Had he been screwing Jillian this whole time?
“Say something,” Kevin said.
Jillian just stood behind him staring daggers at me as if I was the intruder.
Maybe I was.
My gaze moved across the room, not stopping until I found my suitcase. My carryon was sitting on top of it and I didn’t even think. I just grabbed my bags and turned my back on the room, leaving Kevin and Jillian behind me.
“Jane!” Kevin called. “Jane!”
I didn’t stop. Didn’t slow. Didn’t even turn to look at him before going outside. My car was parked in front of the house and I tossed my suitcase in the backseat before taking off.
Somehow, I made it to the airport and got my ticket changed, and before I could even focus on what was happening, I was through security and standing in the middle of an airport bar as men and women hurried past me. Talking on phones, reading emails, pulling luggage. Going about their day because a blonde with a fake rack hadn’t destroyed their lives.
If only I could get the image of the two of them out of my head.
“I need a glass of cabernet,” I said as I slid onto an empty barstool. “No. Make that two glasses.”
The bartender lifted an eyebrow and glanced behind me, but he didn’t ask. Thankfully, because I wasn’t in the mood to talk. He watched me as he poured, and before he’d even finished filling the second glass, I grabbed the first. I gulped it down and scooted it across the counter, automatically reaching for the second one.
In my purse, my phone rang for what felt like the millionth time. I pulled it out to find a smiling picture of Kevin and me lighting up the screen. I knew I should put the phone on silent, I wasn’t going to answer it, but for the time being I was still trying to figure out what had happened, and somehow knowing that Kevin was at least trying to get me back was a comfort. Why, I didn’t even know.
Kevin had been calling every ten minutes since I walked out, leaving messages most of the time, and part of me thought that maybe if I listened to them it would help unravel the mystery of what had just happened. Like he’d somehow be able to explain away how Jillian had ended up in our bed. That was impossible, though, and the logical part of me knew it. My heart may have been broken, but my brain was working just fine, and I knew without a shadow of a doubt that it would be impossible for Kevin to come up with a story that would make what had just happened okay.
The bartender watched me with wary eyes as I finished off my second glass. I nodded toward it, and even though he looked like he wanted to give me a lecture, he refilled it.
“You okay?” he asked softly, his hazel eyes gentle and full of concern.
“Never been worse.” My voice came out hoarse and I realized it was from the tears that had lodged themselves in my throat as they made their way to my eyes.
I cleared my throat, and then took a sip. The bartender watched me as he wiped the counter off. He was in his late forties and balding, his belly round but not overly big and his hands large and meaty. His eyes were kind though, and understanding. He probably saw a lot of crazy shit working at the airport.
My phone rang again, vibrating against the counter, and the bartender nodded toward it. “You going to see what he wants?”
“I know what he wants,” I said as I hit ignore. “He wants to convince me that we should still get married on Saturday. That it doesn’t matter if I just walked in on him having sex with someone else in our room because he loves me and he’ll never do it again.” I fingered the diamond ring on my left hand while staring up at the bartender. “Isn’t that what they always say?”
“Sounds about right.” He picked the bottle of cabernet up and poured another inch into my glass.
“Thank you,” I whispered.
The bartender nodded.
He left me alone when he headed off to help a man at the end of the counter, and I finally picked up my phone. Kevin had left eight messages.
I hit play on the first one, and when I put the phone against my ear my palm was moist. Kevin’s voice came over the line, but he wasn’t leaving a message. He was talking to Jillian, telling her to get dressed while muttering something about what a moron he was. The message cut off and I moved on to the second one while taking a sip of my wine.
“Jane? Jane, holy shit. I don’t— I can’t even believe this happened. You have to know that I’m sorry, baby. You have to. I wouldn’t do this to you. I wouldn’t. I love you. Please, just come back and we’ll talk.”
The message ended and for a second I did nothing.
He wouldn’t do this to me? But he did. He did do this to me, so what the hell was that supposed to mean? Did he really think that just by saying those words it would erase the image of naked Jillian from my brain? It didn’t. It couldn’t. Nothing could.
I took another gulp and hit play on message number three. Kevin was begging me to call him back, but his message got cut off when he started talking to Jillian again. She was still there, and apparently he was having a difficult time getting her to leave.
The message clicked off and I went to number four.
“Jane, listen to me. This has never happened before. Jillian showed up and— I don’t know! It happened and I don’t know how, but I’ll never do it again. I swear to God, I’ll never do it again. I—”
His voice was cut off and there were muffled sounds I couldn’t make out, and then Jillian was on the line. “Jane, he’s fucking lying. He’s a fucking liar who lied to you and lied to me. Don’t listen to him. Don’t trust him. And don’t come back here. Kevin and I have been sleeping together for nine months. We—”
There was more commotion and the message cut off, but I’d heard enough.
Kevin had been cheating on me for months, which meant there was a very good chance he’d cheated on me before. For four years we lived in different states, went to different colleges and only saw each other once every couple months. How many times over the years had he slept with other women as I sat in my dorm room alone, waiting for my friends to get back from their dates? How much had I already sacrificed for him? How much more was I willing to give to a man who couldn’t even be faithful?
“Hell, no,” I muttered as I deleted every single message from Kevin.
I sipped my wine while going through every social media site I had. I unfriended and blocked Kevin, I updated my status to single, I deleted our engagement pictures and every image on my phone that had the two of us together, and I blocked his phone number. The last thing I did was to transfer a huge chunk of money from our joint checking account into my personal account.
By the time I stood up to board my flight, I felt fifty pounds lighter.
“Thank you,” I said, sliding a fifty across the bar.
The bartender shook his head and held his hands up. “Keep it.”
“No. I couldn’t—”
Any argument I had died on my lips when the lights glinted off the diamond on my finger. How much did a two-carat diamond cost? Ten thousand? Knowing Kevin, it had probably been more. He liked nice things. Expensive things. Spare-no-expense kind of things.
The diamond that I’d stared at in awe for the last year suddenly looked grotesque and gaudy. The sparkle no longer made my heart melt, and it no longer seemed like proof that Kevin had missed me during those four months apart. Now, staring at the ring, it felt more like shackles than a piece of jewelry.
I pulled it off my finger and slapped it on the counter before sweeping the fifty up. “Take this.”
“What? No!” The bartender shook his head as he picked the ring up. He held it out to me, his eyes wide, but I turned away. “What are you doing? You can’t leave this. Take it!”
“I don’t want it!” I called over my shoulder as I hurried out into the busy airport.
The buzz and flurry of activity drowned out his protests.
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