Charming: A Modern Day Sexy Cinderella Story (5 page)

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Authors: Jennifer Miller

Tags: #General Fiction

BOOK: Charming: A Modern Day Sexy Cinderella Story
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I can’t get it off fast enough. “Please,” I implore of Katie, “help me get it off.”

“It’s okay. I’m here,” Katie murmurs over and over again as I continue to paw at myself trying to get at the buttons. She never tells me to stop. Never tells me to hold on. She just rushes to help me as quickly as possible. When the first few come undone, I whimper at the feeling of being released from my prison. My whimper quickly turns to a cry of relief when it finally slides down my body. Katie takes it and shoves it into the corner and returns to stand before me, her eyes looking into mine briefly before she wraps her arms around me. The love and concern I see in her eyes, makes my own fill with tears. Looking over her shoulder, I find my reflection staring back at me. There’s so much sadness there, and it finally makes me break. A sob I’m unable to stifle makes my chest ache, and Katie holds on tight as I sink to the floor, and curl over myself and just…let…go.

I’m angry at myself, angry that I didn’t allow myself to see what was clearly in front of me. I’m devastated that I didn’t love myself enough to know that I deserve more. That I was willing to settle for a love that was mediocre at best. Part of me held onto hope that time would change things, and that the missing elements from our relationship would take root and grow in time. On top of those emotions are feelings of embarrassment, but more than that, it’s the overwhelming fear that I’m not enough. That Jeremy clearly didn’t find happiness with me either. While I know in my heart that this is for the best, and I feel thankful that I didn’t just make a huge mistake, I struggle with inadequacy and pain. The pain feels unbearable. And Katie? She just holds me through it all while whispering words of love and support in my ear.

After a time, I finally get control of my emotions and am able to stop the tears. My sobs have long since turned to sniffles. Katie pulls away from me, wiping the wetness from my face, paying no heed to the fact I’ve left a teary mess on her own dress. “What do you need? What can I do? Do you need to punch something? Eat something?”

Katie takes hold of my hand and gives me a tug helping me to my feet. Shaking my head in confusion, “Why am I so upset? I don’t understand.” I look into her eyes and confess, “I was about to walk out anyway,” I whisper. “I was standing there looking at myself in the mirror and waiting to feel…something. Anything. I wasn’t going to go through with it, so why am I even crying? I feel so stupid.”

Taking my upper arms in her hands, she turns me to face her, and waits for me to look into her eyes instead of at my feet. “Because what he did hurts. Because the decision you made isn’t an easy one. It’s hard, and brave, and strong. But that doesn’t mean that you don’t have a right to grieve over the end of something you had wished to be different. Accepting the loss of a dream is hard. So, regardless of how right the decision is, it doesn’t mean you aren’t allowed to be hurt and angry by his and Jackie’s betrayal.”

“I don’t think I’ve been in love with Jeremy for a long time – if ever really. I think I was simply going through the motions and kept thinking everything else would come eventually. That love isn’t some fairytale where everything is happy all the time. Love is hard, and it can hurt, and it can be both a poison and a balm to your heart and soul. And I thought that this type of love was all that I deserved, even if greater love is available for others.”

“No. Love, the right kind of love, should never be a poison. And you’re right, it isn’t always a fairytale, but that doesn’t mean it can’t also be wonderful even when it isn’t. And you deserve the best of loves – never something less than optimal,” she says.

That manages to get a small smile from me, “And how would you know miss single and loving it?”

“I had wonderful examples.”

“Yes, your parents,” I nod.

“Yes,” she agrees. “And yours.”

Her words encourage a small trickle of tears to escape their prison and move down my cheeks, but I nod, “Yes. I want a love that’s passionate, fun, honest, safe, and happy. I want to fall in love with a man that encompasses all of those things – not just the idea. I want the real deal, not merely a hope or wish of what it might become. I want a love like my parents had.”

Katie smiles, “And don’t forget great sex.”

This time I laugh, “God yes. And great sex. I deserve that. Jeremy…well, let’s just say it could have been better.”

“Oh god, if we are going to talk about shitty sex, let’s break out the alcohol.”

With a laugh we head to the kitchen to do just that. Looking around, I take in all the moving boxes I packed over the last few weeks in anticipation of moving to Jeremy’s place. All boxes I need to unpack now. Sighing at the thought of all the wasted work, I can’t help but feel grateful that I insisted we wait until after the wedding to move in together. It certainly wasn’t for his lack of asking me over and over, but because I didn’t want to leave Katie high and dry before I had to. Plus, I wasn’t exactly thrilled with moving into Jeremy’s place. Sterile décor, monochrome color and in desperate need of a woman’s touch, it wasn’t my ideal place to visit, let alone live, but we hadn’t yet found another home to move into. That wasn’t because we hadn’t looked at everything and anything listed for sale, but because we could never agree on a place. Or a price. Anything I liked he had a problem with and anything he liked, I found lacking something. And he wanted to spend more and buy larger than me. It was a nightmare; neither ever willing to compromise. I’m thankful now. And why I didn’t take that as a huge clue that there was a problem I’ll never know.

Katie rummages through the cupboard and takes out a couple shot glasses and the bottle of tequila we keep hidden in the back – just for emergencies. She pours until there’s no more room at the brim and we have to be careful as we lift them to our mouths so we don’t spill. Downing mine and slamming the glass back on the counter as a wordless request for a refill, I revel in the burn. She obliges and after a few more times I’m feeling nice and tipsy. When a smile graces my lips she nods like she’s completed a mission.

Thinking of her holding me while I lost my shit, being there for me today, offering to help me get the hell out of dodge, and everything after that, my heart warms. “Thank you for being my best friend,” I blurt.

Her brows lower into a frown, “You never have to thank me for that.”

“Of course I do. I don’t ever want you to think I take our friendship for granted.”

“I don’t think that. Ever.”

“I’m lucky that you were there for me today.”

“I’ll always be here for you. Always. Never doubt that.”

“Until we’re old and gray?” I ask her. An old promise we always ask one another.

“Until we are old and gray,” she confirms.

Looking around at my apartment again, replaying the day’s events in my mind, I feel at a loss. “What the hell do I do now?” I ask Katie, not really expecting her to have an answer any more than I have one for myself.

“Well. You could start by getting some actual clothes on.”

At her reply I look down at my white lacy strapless bra and thong. I was so desperate to get my dress off, it didn’t occur to me that I’m practically naked now. Suddenly, the fact I’m sitting at the kitchen table bare assed well on my way to getting drunk strikes me as funny and I start to giggle. “Not exactly what I expected to be doing right now in this get up,” I confess.

Katie’s laugh joins mine, “I’d imagine not. But hey, at least you don’t have to worry about faking an orgasm on your wedding night.” And then we begin to laugh at her comment. The ridiculousness of the situation combined with the alcohol coursing through our systems makes tears fall from our eyes.

Our laughs are immediately cut off when we hear banging at the front door. Our eyes cut to each other in surprise. Our looks clearly asking the other if they heard that too. We remain frozen our heads slightly cocked to the side and I almost laugh at how we must look. When it remains quiet, our bodies visibly relax until there’s another pounding on the front door, and this time there’s a voice to go along with it. “Ella! Ella, open up the door! Let’s talk about this.”

A sick heat made up of dread and disbelief runs through my body, twisting in my gut, making me wretch. My eyes, no doubt big as saucers look at Katie and she stares back at me. By silent agreement, neither of us makes a sound, hoping he’ll assume we aren’t home and will leave.

“I know you’re in there, dammit. Both of your cars are here. Answer the door. I’m not leaving until you answer the door. Talk to me. Please. Please talk to me,” he says, his demands turning to pleading. He sounds desperate to speak to me, but all it does is make me angry. What is he thinking? That I’ll forgive him? That I’ll be okay with the fact he got my stepsister pregnant, and what? We can work it out and I’ll be a stepmom to his kid? Um no. I can’t believe he even has the balls to be at my door right now.

Walking to the door, ready to yell at him, I stop when Katie grabs my arm. “No! Don’t you dare open that door,” she whispers harshly.

“I’m not,” I shake my head. She holds onto me for a moment longer, but then nods and lets me go. Walking to the door, I keep it closed but yell loud enough to be heard through it, “Go away, Jeremy. I have nothing to say to you. I can’t believe you would even come here. Leave.”

“Ella, please I’m begging you. Open the door. Let’s talk about this. It isn’t what you think.”

“Are you serious? Oh thank god! So you mean your dick just accidentally found its way inside of Jackie? How stupid do you think I am?”

“Just hear me out.”

“No way in hell. How could we possibly work this out? Go away. You made a mistake coming here.”

“Fine,” he growls. “I will give you tonight, but I will be back here every single day until you talk to me. I’m not giving up on us.”

“It’s not going to work. Just go away. We’re done. The fact that you could even think anything differently is ridiculous. Leave,” I say sternly, “And don’t come back.”

“We’ll see. I’ll get you to talk to me eventually.”

His words make anger rush through me fast and furious and I have my hand on the doorknob ready to open it and scream in his face, but once again Katie is there. She places her hand on my shoulder and the small act is like ice water on a burn, I instantly calm down and am able to realize that the last thing I want to do is talk to him, look at him, hear anything he has to say.

Dropping my head between my shoulders, I take some deep breaths calming myself. Then I sink to the floor once again. This is becoming a really shitty habit. “What am I going to do?” I ask not really expecting an answer.

“We should leave,” Katie says.

My eyes whip to hers, “Wouldn’t that also be known as running away from my problems?”

“No, I prefer to call it problem avoidance – at least for a little while. Getting some distance so you can think and breathe without having to worry about him breaking down the door will be a good thing.”

I think about it for a minute then look at her again, “Just leave?”

“Why the hell not? You won that trip didn’t you? It’s all in your name plus a guest. You’re already packed and ready to go.” She shrugs like it’s the simplest thing in the world, “And since I know you’d prefer to have someone with you for a little while, I will volunteer.” She laughs and shrugs, “Let’s get the hell out of here.”

“You would do that? For me?”

She rolls her eyes, “What kind of question is that? Will I be there for my best friend and go on a vacation to Cabo San Lucas where we can get drunk, get tans, and reintroduce you to the single world? But most importantly, where you can find a little peace and heal in the process. Please, where do I sign up?”

“You can get the time off work without issue?” I ask, not quite ready to believe her yet.

“I already took a few days off for your wedding, and you know Sally will give me a couple days more considering the circumstances,” she says talking about her boss at the insurance claims office that she’s worked at for the last few years. Her boss is a doll and loves her to pieces. “I’ll call her in a few minutes to make sure. Let’s check the airline first and make sure there are seats open on the same flight you’re taking.”

“My vacation is two weeks, but I guess I don’t have to stay for that long,” I say thinking out loud.

“You don’t have to, but you may want to. We can start off spending time together and then we can play it by ear from there. You may not be ready to leave after a few days, maybe you would like some time to yourself as well.”

“True,” I tell her, my mind turning with possibilities. Looking at her with a smile, I stand and head to the stairs leading up to our rooms.

“Where are you going?” she asks.

Stopping I turn to her with a smile, “Do you want help packing or what?”

She smiles and we run up the stairs. While I pull out her leopard print suitcase and start getting clothes for her, she grabs her laptop to book a flight and calls her boss. As I grab a few of her favorite bikinis, I picture us lying by the pool, margaritas in our hands, laughing, relaxing and most importantly forgetting. Sounds like the perfect medicine.

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