I bury my face in my pillow and cry until I’m exhausted, but turbulent thoughts keep me awake. I roll over and grab my diary off the nightstand. The necklace Dom gifted me slips from between the pages and lands on my thigh. I pick it up and examine the intricate cross pendant. Our last encounter replays in my mind. I convinced myself if Dom saw me, he’d realize his mistake and confess his devotion and undying love. Instead, he thoroughly ruined me. The hurtful things he said cut me to the marrow. If Mia knew I went to see him, she’d wring my neck. Sometimes I stake out his office, hoping to catch sight of him, but it has proved fruitless.
Drew and I remain friends. We talk occasionally, but conversation regarding Dom is avoided. He’s performing at a club this Friday night and invited Mia and me as VIP guests. I haven’t seen him since the split with Dom. Sadness envelops me.
“How could you do this?”
I flounce out of bed and storm to the kitchen, determined to destroy any reminders of Dominic Stone. I flick the light on and throw the gold chain into the garbage disposal, then switch it on, mentally flipping him the bird. Hearing the metal being ripped apart is somewhat satisfying. Continuing my reign of destruction, I turn the burner on and tear pages from my diary. I hold them over the flame before flinging the burning paper into the sink. It’s bittersweet watching my written desires become black ash. Dom brought those words to life. The waterworks start again. The pain of missing him is unbearable. It was stupid of me to think doing something so trivial would end it. Love is supposed to be beautiful, but for me it’s agony. I wish I could sleep forever.
“Pepper, what’s going on?” Mia rubs the sleep from her eyes and surveys the scene, concern evident in her expression. “I thought the apartment was on fire.”
“I can’t keep pretending I’m okay.”
She hugs me. “It’ll get better.”
“Stop saying that,” I sob, jerking away. “It hasn’t.”
“Give it time. It’s only been a month,” she says reassuringly.
“I’m reaching my breaking point.” I slam my diary on the stove.
She pauses and regards me solemnly. “Remember the wager we made at the end of spring semester?”
Mia is a notorious slacker, and her GPA sucks because of it. She survived three years of college by luck and extra-credit work, aka giving up the goodies to the more unethical professors. I agreed to a blind date on the condition she aced her assignments and stayed on track when school started again. Surprisingly, she has.
“Yeah,” I answer hesitantly, not liking the shift in topic.
“Whelp, I’m collecting my debt,” she says, turning off the garbage disposal and burner.
“That was before Dom.”
“And?”
“I’m not ready to date.”
“Too bad. I won the bet fair and square.”
“It’s wrong to string some poor guy along.”
“I fucking hate seeing you like this,” she says, hopping onto the counter.
“Dating won’t help.”
“I have the perfect guy for you. He’s a jokester, super gorgeous, and charming. You two will click, guaranteed.”
“No, Mia.”
Why am I loyal to a man who discarded me?
You’re fucking pathetic.
Dom’s taunting words ring in my mind.
“Chill, babe, I’m not asking you to marry him. Dating doesn’t have to be serious. It can be casual and fun. You could even gain a new friend.”
“I’m not good company for anyone, and look where casual dating has gotten me.”
“How do you expect to move on if you spend all your free time sulking at home?”
“No man will ever compare to him.”
