“So, this is it?” he asks, walking me to the door.
“Yeah,” I choke out. “This is it. I just …” I groan, wishing I could find the damn words. “I’m sorry,” is what I settle on because I don’t know what else to say.
“Are you sure?” he asks, his patient hazel eyes meeting mine. “Because we’ve done this a few times …”
What he means is, I’ve ended our relationship a few times.
Because it’s always the same thing.
I get bored.
And then I start fights.
I ask for things in the bedroom I know he’s not comfortable giving me.
And when he refuses, I push him away.
“I’m sure,” I tell him, leaning in and kissing his cheek. “I’m done.”
Some women might think I’m doing this for his attention. But I know Theo, and he’s not going to chase after or fight for me. He won’t beg me to reconsider because he’s a good guy and he just wants me to be happy.
And I really wish I could be happy with him.
But I’m not.
“Goodbye, Theo,” I say and then head down the hall.
I’m not even to the elevator before I’m texting my friend Nicole and telling her to get ready because I’m picking her up so we can grab a drink. After what went down with Theo, I need a strong shot … or two.
“I still saywe should’ve gone to the country club.”
Nicole eyes the bar in disgust and then grabs a napkin in a feebleattempt to clean the area. Unfortunately, there aren’t enough napkins—or bleach—to save this place. But points to her for trying.
“We always go there.” I slide onto the barstool, praying STDs can’t be contracted by touch. “And it’s always the same asshats frequenting the bar.”
Their hats might be Gucci fedoras, but that’s beside the point.
When my heels attempt to leave the ground, they momentarily resist due to the stickiness on the wood floor. I cringe, and Nicole catches it.
“Nope, I can’t do it.” She stands. “There has to be a place that’s cleaner than here.”
“Yeah, and my brothers own them all.”
And while they don’t care what I do, the last thing I want is for word to get back to them that I’m at a bar, looking for a hookup.
Years ago, neither of them would’ve judged, but now that they’ve both found love, they can’t seem to understand why everyone else in the world hasn’t.
I’m happy for them—I am.
Dominick has Peyton and my three adorable nephews. And Matteo has Daniella and a baby girl on the way. And they’re all so damn happy that they want everyone around them to be happy.
But what they don’t understand is that Iwantto be happy.
I want what they have.
But I’m broken.
“Brielle, please,” Nicole pleads, her green eyes begging me to get her out of this place. “You know I adore you, and I’m your loyal wingwoman, but this place is …”
