Total pages in book: 78
Estimated words: 72060 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 360(@200wpm)___ 288(@250wpm)___ 240(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 72060 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 360(@200wpm)___ 288(@250wpm)___ 240(@300wpm)
"That sounds like a great idea." I look up at the ceiling when the door slams. "I have to go. I’ll call you back later," I say and disconnect when my office door flies open.
"What happened?” Amelia asks, standing in front of me, and it looks like she’s wearing pjs.
"What are you wearing?" I ask, and she looks down at herself.
"It’s been a day," she states, coming in, and I laugh.
"You think your day is going bad," I say, picking up the white square paper in front of me and handing it to her. "I win."
She reaches out her hand to grab the white paper, and I let it go. Her eyes go to the top, and I know the minute she sees his name because they widen, and she looks back at me. "Shut the front door!” she shouts, and all I can do is nod my head. “Unbelievable. Who does this?"
"I have no idea," I say honestly, getting up and walking over to the cabinet that I keep the sweet tea in. "Rachel and the girls also got the invitations." I twist open the top and take a swig, then look over at her, offering her the bottle. She just shakes her head, and I take another gulp of it. "Why the fuck would he invite me to his wedding?" I look over at her and wait for her to answer.
"Oh, I thought you were asking the question and then were going to answer it yourself," she says, going to the couch in the corner and sitting on it. "Well, let’s look at this."
"Yes, please, let’s look at this," I say sarcastically, taking another swig of the bottle, the heat rising up in my body. I know that this is the sign when I should stop taking shots. It’s the telltale sign that nothing good is going to come if I continue. "He breaks up with me two weeks before I have to write my exam." I hold up my finger. "And then." I take a swig and look at her. "I don’t know if there is anything else after that."
"You dated for two years," Amelia points out, and I glare at her. "This is a huge deal."
"You don’t think I know this," I retort, my voice going higher. The nerves in my body start, and my feet move on their own, pacing back and forth. "It’s Travis." Saying his name feels foreign to me, yet feels like coming back home. "He was my everything." I take another sip of the tea. "I was going to…" I stop talking, knowing that this walk down memory lane will help no one.
"You were going to marry him." She fills in for me.
"I mean, if he would have asked, yes, I would have," I admit to her. "But apparently, Jennifer is the one for him."
"Well, imagine his surprise when you put down that you aren’t going," Amelia says, and I look over at her. "You aren’t going."
"I promised." The words come out in a whisper. "I promised that I would be there at the happiest day of his life."
Her mouth opens. "Well, promises can be broken." She stands up. "You are not going. That would be crazy. How does he even introduce you? Honey, this is Harlow. We went out in college?" She shakes her head. "It’s not a good idea." She grabs the bottle from me. "And neither is drinking this shit when you’re mad. You’ll make bad decisions."
"You aren’t even wearing a bra." I point at her, and she gasps and covers her nipples.
"I rushed over here," she huffs. "Because I thought you were in need."
"I am in need," I confirm to her. "I’m in need of a date to go to my ex-boyfriend's wedding!” I yell.
"I’m going home," she announces. "Are you coming?"
"Did you make dinner?" I ask, and she glares at me.
"I haven’t put on a bra. You think I made dinner?" she says with her teeth clenched.
"Gosh, just asking," I say and start to walk out of the office with her. "If you want, I can cook."
"The last time you tried to cook, the fire department had to come to your house." She looks over her shoulder at me.
"That was because I forgot I put the pot on the stove and then went to take a bath." I stop moving. "I’ll meet you there," I say, turning around and walking back into my office.
I grab the white envelope and take it out. The pen is in my hand next as I click off the “will attend” with my name “Harlow Barnes.” Sealing it back in the envelope, I toss it in the mailbox at the corner. "It’ll be fine," I say as I open the mailbox and place the envelope in it. "I’ll go and fulfill my promise, and then we can all move on." I close the lid and let go of the breath in me. "And I’ll never see him again."