Page 206 of I’m The Worst

Something inside my chest tears clean in half. Then something colder takes its place. I look back at the footage, at someone wearing my face. The phone shatters in my fist. Glass cuts into my palm, but I don’t feel it. The only thing I feel is pure, blinding rage.

Whoever the fuck did this…

I’m going to skin them alive.

The dress doesn’t fit right.

It clings in all the wrong places—too tight across my ribs, too loose at the hips. I stare at myself in the mirror, at the pale ghost wearing a wedding dress like a corpse dressed for burial. Thunder cracks overhead, rattling the windows and making the glass shiver. Rain lashes against them in heavy sheets, turning the world outside into a blur of gray.

I reach behind for the zipper, but my fingers won’t cooperate. They’re shaking too badly. The pills haven’t kicked in yet. Not enough vodka, apparently.

Grabbing the bottle off the dresser, I take another long swallow. I don’t know why I’m even trying this stupid thing on. The wedding is weeks away, and I already know I won’t make it that far. Not like this. Not when every breath feels like dragging broken glass through my lungs.

I’m so fucking tired.

The kind of tired that settles into your marrow until it becomes part of you. The kind you carry into bed and secretly hope you never wake up from. The kind where you drift a little too close to the center line while driving home and catch yourself wondering…

What if I just didn’t correct it?

No notes. No goodbye. Just…done.

BANG.

The front door shudders so violently, the picture frames rattle on the walls. My heart slams into my throat.

Another crash.

“AJ!”

“No.” My body moves before my brain catches up. “No… No, no, no…”

Ice floods every vein as I stumble backward, the long train of my dress dragging across the hardwood.

BANG.

“Open the goddamn door!”

I spin toward the dining room, slipping on the polished floor.

Another hit.

The wood groans again, splinters cracking.

My hand scrambles blindly across the dining table until my fingers reach the cold metal of Gage’s gun. Heart thundering, I snatch it up with both hands.

“Wolff!” My voice breaks. “Go away!”

The doorframe groans under another slam.

“I swear to god, I’ll shoot you!”

“AJ!” His voice cuts through the storm, louder this time. “Open the fucking door.” Something heavy slams into it again.

The deadbolt groans.

“No! I mean it!”

Lightning flashes through the house, making the lights flicker. Where’s my phone? Where the fuck is my phone? I keep the gun trained on the front door while my eyes search wildly for my purse.