Total pages in book: 90
Estimated words: 91767 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 459(@200wpm)___ 367(@250wpm)___ 306(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 91767 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 459(@200wpm)___ 367(@250wpm)___ 306(@300wpm)
I stare at him, fuck.
“Why would you say that?” I ask.
“Because my mother just told me that you two were very cozy.”
Mind your business, Mary.
“Actually….. yes. I’m seeing Dylan. It’s very new and unexpected and the good news is that you were right all along, we don’t have that zing anymore.”
“What the fuck are you talking about, Zoe?” he explodes. “We love each other,” he cries.
I look around at all the people staring. “Sshh, keep your voice down,” I whisper angrily.
“What… so he doesn’t fucking hear us?”
“Rodney,” I whisper. “This isn’t about Dylan, the truth is that our relationship had run its course a long, long time ago.”
“Bullshit, I’m going to fucking knock him out.”
“Who?” My eyes widen as I connect the dots. “Dylan?” I gasp.
“That’s right.” He goes to march back inside, and I grab his arm. “Are you crazy, don’t be ridiculous, Dylan would kill you in a fight. Have you seen the size of him?”
“Not if I kill him first.”
“Stop it,” I cry.
People really are watching now.
“He can’t have you, Zoe, you belong to me.” He marches off inside.
What the ever-loving fuck?
Oh.
My.
God!
I put my hands over my mouth in horror and take out my phone and call Dylan, I need to warn him that Rodney is acting like a psychopath. Ring ring…. ring, ring….. “Pick up….. pick up.”
No answer.
I dial again and this time it goes straight to voicemail, he’s declined the call.
Fuck.
What the hell do I do?
I have to go, no good can come of my staying here. My presence is just going to escalate everything.
With my heart pounding hard in my chest I walk out the front gates and down the road, and I call an Uber. I stand in the dark as I wait for it, and I can hear the laughter and music in the distance.
Why didn’t Dylan tell me he was in a wedding today?
Why did I come?
Why is Rodney acting like a caveman?
Why am I such a fucking idiot?
The questions are endless.
The Uber pulls up, and I jump into the backseat, “Please, get me out of here.”
I pace back and forth in my kitchen, it’s 12 a.m. and Dylan’s phone is still turned off.
Maybe he’s still at the wedding?
I text him again.
Dylan, I only went to end it.
I’m with you, please come home.
I’m worried sick.
It’s 2 a.m., and no word from Dylan.
I know the wedding is definitely over by now.
Is he out? Is he in jail for killing Rodney? What the hell is going on over there, why hasn’t he got back to me?
I’ll try and call him again; I dial his number.
The number you have called is not available from this service.
Huh?
I dial his number again.
The number you have called is not available from this service.
What? Why am I getting that message?
I type into Google, why am I getting the message, the number you have called is not available from this service.
A reply bounces back.
Your number has been blocked.
The air leaves my lungs, he’s blocked my number.
I try again,
The number you have called is not available from this service.
I screw up my face in tears, “Dylan. Don’t do this.”
I sit at my desk and stare into space.
Life gives out hard lessons, the kind that break your heart.
I’m a broken mess, a shell of who I thought I was.
I think this is my saddest heartbreak because I know I’ve lost something really special.
It’s been five days since Wedding Armageddon and not a single word from Dylan.
He left me.
He left me because I lied, and I really can’t blame him.
And the joke of it is, as connected as we are, I don’t even know where he lives. With my number blocked, I can’t track him at all.
“You coming for Christmas drinks tonight?” Marla asks, interrupting my thoughts.
“Oh…. Umm, no I can’t. I’ve got something on. Sorry.”
“Well, I hope it’s fun.” She hugs me from behind. “I’ve never seen you so flat.”
I fake a smile, “I’m fine.”
I watch on as the office packs up their desks and one by one leave for the office drinks.
I stay seated.
Because if I go home then I’ll just cry, and damn it, Marla is right. I’ve never been so flat.
It’s Christmas Eve.
The twinkling fairy lights light my living room and the carols are on the television.
I wonder what Dylan is doing.
My heart constricts, I was just another person who let him down.
Being sad at Christmas is nothing new to him.
He’s used to it.
I’ve never been so regretful of anything in my entire life, and I just want my mom. I drag a chair over to my Christmas tree and get up and take down the Angel, and I sit back on the couch and stare at her for a long time.
Dylan’s words come back to me, When I was a little, I used to pray that the Christmas angel would come and save me, give me a family of my own.