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I feel like the goddess Persephone taking Hades down to his knees before her. I could really get used to this.
“Hi there. Can I buy you a drink?” “No,” Henry booms from behind the man before I can even open my mouth to reject him. “She’s with me.”
“You look like a pink cotton candy wet dream that I don’t want to wake up from.”
They both disapprove of me and that… kind of sucks.
I was so fucking stupid. Stupid, stupid girl with her stupid feeling heart and naivety.
“I can’t give you all of me.” The words appear to pain him to say, but he does say them. “Then you can’t have any of me.”
Maybe Pittsburgh doesn’t have the answers. This is not going to be my forever home. No matter how much it was beginning to feel like such.
I liked spending it on Micaela… Lala… Shortcake. My sweet sugary pink Shortcake. Not mine anymore. I’ve thoroughly fucked that up.
“Ok, what is going on with you today? You’re acting like, well like you did before you met Lala.”
“Well, get used to it because I doubt she’ll be around anymore.” “What? You guys broke up? What did you do?” “Why do you assume I did anything?
I’ve also received a few emails from Thomas, first consoling me on the “break up” that he agreed was completely Henry’s fault.
Passing out into a dreamless sleep, I’m questioning my decision not to have done this sooner. If three bottles of wine is all it takes to dull the pain of the ache Henry Bardot left in me, I should have done it sooner. And might have to do it again tomorrow.
“I did not order this,” I balk, dropping the box on his desk as if it were hot coal. Trying to wipe the touch off on my slacks. “This is not mine.” “Well, it has your name on it, Sir.”
“Can’t say I’m surprised, but I am a little disappointed. You wouldn’t regret it, I promise. There are things that not even Henry is proficient at.” He winks at me—actually winks. Who does that?
Again—barf. This man is older than my father. There has to be at least a forty-year age gap. I’m supportive of daddies and zaddies, but this is like granddaddy territory, and I do not want to enter.
Lala is leaving. I’ve missed my chance. She’s going to be gone, and I’ll never see her again, and the thought has my heart trying to escape my chest. I can’t let her leave. I have to make this right. But I don’t know how.
“Henry Bardot?” the same female voice asks, obviously disbelieving. “Why would Fawn’s older brother be giving her a present at his sister’s baby shower?” The woman obviously has no idea who I am and Samson shushes her, much to my delight.
How fucking dare he. How dare he give me something like this on today of all days. Sneaking it into Fawn’s gift and putting me on the spot in front of everyone. Not that I particularly care about the people in that room, but still.
“I think you’re worth it. You are not insignificant to me, and even though you’ve made up your mind to go to Montana, I’m hoping I can convince you to stay.
