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had politely declined her offer, equal points horrified and impressed that the woman who wore cat sweaters and had a purple rinse in her hair shattered her ex-husband’s kneecaps.
“Who did this to you?” Rowan’s nostrils flared, his jaw was set in a rigid line.
There were questions to be asked. Arguments to be had. Lectures to be made on feminism and the rights afforded to me as a strong woman and human being who was his equal. Yes, all of those things needed to be said. But I didn’t say them. I blinked at him dreamily then said, “’Kay.”
Honestly, she’s so real for that lol
“Rowan,” I said in not much more than a whisper. “Yeah, cupcake?” “What is this?” His mouth turned upward ever so slightly before he leaned in and kissed me gently on the forehead. When he pulled back, our faces were inches apart. My heart thrummed. “This,” he murmured, eyes glued to mine, “is the beginning of us.”
“Where we goin’?” he asked. I looked to my best friend. “We’re going to fuck up the piece of shit who laid hands on my woman.”
💳💥💳💥💳💥
“You’re saying a lot of nice things but in a mean tone,” I informed her, leaning back against the cushions, chugging more wine in an effort to relax.
“I’m going home to listen to the new Taylor Swift album and eat an entire rotisserie chicken,” she chirped.
Fiona is me and I am Fiona
“Although you are an uninvited guest, I cannot physically have you in my house without offering you a refreshment,” I told him,
“Because this is my kitchen, and I can’t have a man in my kitchen.” He raised his brow. “Not very progressive of you.” I suppressed a groan.
“You’ve got a bakery to open,” Rowan told me when I didn’t say anything. “I vaguely recall owning a bakery,” I whispered, my voice not sounding like my own.
There was a warm satisfaction in knowing his excellently trained pooch was now siding firmly with me. Girl power, baby.
I was trying to be the woman who got angry when presented with betrayal but directed her anger outward, toward something productive. That seemed healthier than bursting into tears and eating frosting straight from the bowl like I really, really wanted to do.
If my insurance covered such things, I’d get a full body MRI framed just so I could see that there were no dark masses, and stop worrying about them.
Literally me
It was in a small town in Missouri, where being gay was dangerous in and of itself.
Of course, it was misery… I mean Missouri
Rowan’s eyes went wide. “You’re seriously trying to matchmake right now, in the middle of all this?”
“Just know we consider you family already, and though we are arguably all insane, we love fiercely and drink a lot, so there will be absolutely no judgment on this end if you’d like to cope through this holiday with copious amounts of booze.”
Dream mother-in-law 🥰
“Make me, Rambo.”
Literally obsessed with his sisters lol
“I don’t come from a family where precious things are passed down.” “Now you do,” she countered with a warm smile.
Homegirl is so much stronger than me I would’ve balled my fucking eyes out 😫
“You’re a fucking terrible liar,” she folded her arms in front of her. “And I’m not getting married if you know he’s like a secret serial killer or claps when planes land.”
Is bad that being a serial killer isn’t a dealbreaker for me, but clapping on the plane lands is…
“First, there is nothing on this planet you can be terrible at,” he told me firmly. “Except parallel parking. You are terrible at that.”
