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But yesterday afternoon, when he told me Charlie wouldn’t mind—what the fuck? How could he say that? How could he know she wouldn’t be heartbroken?
I have to admit, their engagement is an odd one. Blaze made it clear all the time that their friendship was completely platonic. And then, out of the blue, they got engaged.
It was right after I broke up with David. I remember seeing the pictures on social media, since of course Blaze didn’t tell me. Only two days before that, I’d showed up at his house to apologize for pushing him away. I’d begged him to forgive me, but he didn’t budge.
I have no desire to be anything more than acquaintances with you.
That’s what he said to me. But obviously something’s changed, since he ate me out yesterday like I was the last meal left on the planet.
So why would he marry her if he really wants me? Maybe he only wanted to have sex with me?
I try to ignore the disappointment tainting my thoughts, or the wave of jealousy that comes afterward. Why does he prefer Charlie over me? Is it because she’s taller? Fuller? Not Alex’s little sister?
With a frustrated groan, I shove my phone away. It doesn’t matter. He’s engaged, and after he made it clear that he has no issues with cheating, I don’t even know if I want him anymore.
That’s a recipe for heartbreak. And I can’t let myself walk down that path again.
OVER THE NEXT COUPLE days, I don’t hear from Blaze at all. It’s not abnormal, and it’s probably for the best, but I can’t deny that it hurts that he ignored my text.
Thankfully, I have an entire house I need to bring back to life. So I distract myself and make a series of lists:
- What I still have
- The order I want to redo the house in
- And what I need to get
When Blaze asked me if I still had all my stuff, I lied and told him I did. But the truth is, David got rid of most of it before I even knew what he did.
It was the end of the semester, and David’s parents were coming into town for Christmas. I was staying at Liling’s dorm so we could study together and I wouldn’t have to commute for finals week.
When I came home, everything was different. My colorful walls and throw pillows, my beloved red couch, the sparkly suncatcher in the tall window in the living room—all gone.
And so was lots of other stuff. Some of my favorite baskets, a couple wreaths I’d spent an entire weekend making, handmade candles, et cetera. I only managed to save and hide a few things away before David finished his purge.
Inelegant, he’d called the house.
I’m saving you from my mother’s criticism.
But he’d been the one to do the most criticizing, not his mother.
I left the house as it was, knowing if I tried to redecorate, it would cause a bigger fight than I could’ve handled at the time.
But it doesn’t matter. David is out of my life—probably for the best—and I can get my house back. I can make it mine again. I just have to put in a little bit of work.
The office comes first. This morning, I went to the farmer’s market and found the perfect baskets to put on a tall green shelf I found. All I have to do is go through the filing cabinets David put in there, make sure I don’t lose any important paperwork in the process, and then I’m golden.
And now, with a late evening breeze blowing through my open windows, I’m doing just that. Will already stopped by to help me bring the shelf in, so all that’s left is the fun part.
About half of the filing cabinets are empty, considering that’s where David’s stuff was, so I go through mine. Taxes, inheritance paperwork, my birth certificate, all that stuff.
My paperwork isn’t nearly as complicated as Alex’s. When our dad died, he left all his companies to Alex, and a shit ton of money to both of us. Everly got plenty to live on as well, but what the two of us got combined is less than what Alex got.
She was upset, but I didn’t care. I honestly hadn’t expected to get a penny from my dad, so when I ended up with enough to get me through college and then an unfathomable amount afterward, I was pretty damn happy.
Once I’ve sorted all the paperwork into its respective piles on the desk, I size up the filing cabinet. It can’t be that heavy, right? I know the bookshelf will be a pain in the ass to drag over here by myself, but I figured this would be light.
Making sure to lift from my legs like Alex taught me years ago, I grab one side of the filing cabinet and hoist. It moves pretty easily. Smiling to myself in satisfaction, I pull at it some more, and—oh, fuck.
