Page 80 of Big Girl Panties

"Now that the anger has subsided, I keep thinking that maybe I should have heard him out instead of shutting him down so quickly."

She shifted to the edge of her chair as she reached for my hand. "Brooke, you are amazing. We all fell in love with you. You deserve someone who makes you feel loved. Someone who makes you feel as beautiful as you are, inside and out. You deserve happiness. You just have to figure out if this is something you can forgive or not."

I exhaled. "Yeah. If he even wants me back after the way I acted."

She huffed out a laugh. "First, you had every right to be upset, and he knows that. Second, he's so miserable right now, he would crawl back if you let him."

I smiled.

"I probably shouldn't have said that," she laughed. "But honestly, I hate seeing you both so sad."

Leilani's phone chimed, drawing her attention. "Shit." She shoved back, pushing out of her chair. "Sorry, I have to go."

"Thanks for coming by."

"I hope I helped," she chuckled. "And if you're not ready to see Matt yet, don't worry about the party. Lilly will be so busy…"

"I will try to come."

We said our goodbyes, and as I watched her disappear out the café’s exit, feeling a small sense of relief that he was as miserable as I was, but I still needed to figure out how to get past this.

Chapter 34

Karen Knows Best

Sitting on my couch in three-day-old yoga pants and a shirt that had seen better decades, I wielded a remote control in one hand and a pint of salted caramel ice cream that was quickly becoming my dinner, breakfast, and life coach all rolled into one.

It was Wednesday night wrestling. For the past few months, if I wasn't at the arena pretending to understand the difference between a bodyslam and a powerbomb, I was here, on my couch, cheering Matt on while secretly googling wrestling terms so I don't sound like an idiot.

Karen, my unofficial life advisor, sat perched on the coffee table like a furry little therapist, staring at me with the kind of disapproval usually reserved for people who put pineapple on pizza.

"Stop judging me," I muttered, waving my spoon at her. "I actually like wrestling."

Karen's meow sounded suspiciously like "Yeah, right, lady."

I slumped deeper into the couch cushions. "Okay, fine. I don't like wrestling. I like watching Matt be all, sweaty and muscular and..." I gestured vaguely at the blank TV screen. "But the actual wrestling part? I still don't understand why they're always throwing chairs around."

Karen meowed again, rolling her eyes.

"I should just call him, right?" I asked, taking another mountainous spoonful of ice cream. "I mean, what's the worst that could happen? Oh, wait, I remember, complete and utter humiliation followed by eating ice cream for dinner every night until I become one with this couch."

I tapped my spoon against the container like a tiny drum of anxiety. "But I'm being stupid, aren't I? Sitting here having a therapy session with my cat when I could just…"

Karen stood up, turned around, and presented me with a perfect view of her butthole.

"Wow. Thanks for that insightful advice, Karen. Really helpful."

A double knock echoed from my front door. My heart did a little hopeful tap dance. Maybe it was Matt! But it was probably Davina.

I practically launched myself off the couch, abandoning my ice cream and dignity in equal measure. I yanked the door open with what I hoped was an alluring smile and not the face of someone who'd been talking to their cat for twenty minutes.

"Hey, cupcake."

My smile died faster than a phone battery at 1%. It was Chris holding a bouquet of red roses that looked like he'd grabbed them from a gas station.

"Eww, gross, no." I physically recoiled. Cupcake was what he'd called me when we first met, which quickly changed back to Brooke after we moved in together. "Do not call me that. Ever. It makes me want to throw up in my mouth." I leaned out into the hallway, checking both directions. "What are you doing here? Seriously, who let you into the building?"

"I miss you."