"Are you crazy? How do you think yourgirlfriendwould feel about that? Does she even know about me?"
He shakes his head like a sad little puppy who knows shitting on the carpet is wrong but continues to do it.
In the past twenty-four hours, since we came home from the hospital, Beckett has treated me like a priest at confession, giving me details I never asked for like he wants my blessing.
He's been with this girl for six months. She grew up "south of LA" but lives in Arizona now. They connected at a conference when he traveled there on business and they hit it off. It's been quite a successful long-distance relationship.
I can't get out of here fast enough. The shock is still at the forefront of my brain and will eventually wear off, and I want to be nowhere near him when it does. I'm functioning on adrenaline and soon I'll crash.
Aside from my massive DVD and Blu-Ray collection, and my clothes and small personal items, I don't want anything that will remind me of him.
"Keep it all. I won't need it where I'm going."
"Are you going to look for a job around here? Will you go home to your dad and stepmom?"
"That's none of your business."
"I feel gutted." Beckett actually begins to tear up. "Can I have a kiss goodbye?"
Violence is never the answer.Yet all I want to do is re-break his nose. But I think I've pushed my luck enough.
"Maybe you can salvage one of your relationships, but it won't be ours."
IfeellikeElleWoods right after Warner Huntington III dumped her. But instead of a box of chocolate truffles on my lap, I have a pack of Double Stuf Oreos.
It's my third night in a hotel, and I'm too lazy to leave the room to get better toiletries. The complimentary two-in-one shampoo/conditioner is like washing my hair with bacon grease, and I guarantee my split ends will be separated to the root on my next wash. Why didn't I grab the shampoo for my color-treated hair?
DoorDash has been a lifesaver, but the delivery charges are burning a hole in my wallet.
When I'm not sleeping the entire day, I'm crying. It hurts knowing the man I thought I'd spend the rest of my life with didn't feel the same. And on top of that, he was cheating behind my back, and I didn't have a clue.
He has texted me every morning and every night to make sure I'm okay, but I refuse to respond.
My phone rings and I curse under my breath, hoping it's not Beckett.
When I look at the caller ID, I see it's Lucille.
"Lucille!" I shout, on the verge of tears again. "I was fired!"
"Oh, Amelia. I figured as much. Why didn’t you call me sooner?"
"A lot has happened these last couple of days."
"Good or bad?"
"Bad!" I wail as an impressive amount of tears drop from my eyelids. "Beckett was cheating on me, and we broke up."
"Oh no, Amelia." Lucille sounds just as heartbroken as I feel.
"I moved out."
"Where are you staying?"
"A hotel." My voice quavers again and I don’t have to hide the embarrassment from her.
"Why haven't you called me?"
"I didn't want to bother you. Plus I've had a lot on my mind. I'm sorry."
