Page 93 of The Wallflower
There's no way he wasn't at least fucking her and me at the same time. God, please explain to me how I missed this.How could I have been so stupid?Engagements take time.Commitment. All the things he wasn't willing to give me, clearly since I was nothing more than a secret fuck.
Perfect for fucking in a dusty library but not bringing home to Daddy. My heart races in my chest, and yes, I know I should’ve expected this since things like this are the entire reason I refuse to date or do anything with a man, but I thought… I thought Drew cared, at least a little bit. He told people I was his girlfriend. Yes, it was only to keep people away, but it had to stand for something.
When the last glass is plucked from my tray, I make a beeline through the crowd to escape. I’m standing smack dab in the middle of the party towers, everyone wanting to congratulate the couple, so it takes a moment of fighting, using my tray to practically shove people out of the way. My vision blurs, my lungs ache as I hold my breath, and panic bubbles up in my chest. It’s been a long time since I had a panic attack, but this feels just like all the other times. I need to get out of here, away from him, these people, this damn room.
When I finally reach the end of the room, I can breathe a little easier, but that breath is stolen from my lungs when an arm snakes out of nowhere and latches onto me. I’m seconds away from punching the person in the face when I realize I’m not in any danger.
It’s just Jackie. A safe harbor in a wind-swept sea. She has no idea how much I need her right now. All the broken pieces I’ve been holding over the past few minutes push me over the edge, and I immediately break down, letting out a horrendous sob on her shoulder. She doesn’t say anything. Then again, she doesn’t have to. Holding me tight against her chest, she turns us so my back is to the room and lets me release all the tears I’ve been holding back.
All the pain, sadness, and heartache spill out of me and onto the floor like I’ve been cut open. After a few minutes, she finallyspeaks. "It's okay, Bel. It's okay. Let it out, and then march back into that room with your head held high. Don’t let him see you breaking down. That’s what he wants."
I know that, but it’s harder than you’d think to see someone you thought gave a shit about you hold hands and dance with another woman who you just discovered he’s been with for a while since he’s now engaged to her.
“I just don’t know how I missed it. Clearly, they’ve been together for a while… and if they have, then…” The words barely squeak past my lips as another sob rips through me. I don’t know what to believe. All the rumors said he didn’t date. Even Drew himself admitted he wasn’t boyfriend material, yet here he stands with his future wife wrapped around his arm. It was all a sham.
How could I have been so stupid?My brain feels like it’s been put into a blender. The tears refuse to stop falling. I don't know how long I stand there crying. How long it takes for my eyes to dry. It’s pathetic, I know.
“Shhh, it’s okay.” Jackie’s soothing voice helps to bring me back to the present. Even with the heavy weight of pain pressing down on my chest, I know I can’t let him win. I can’t leave the party and let him see how much it hurts me that he’s with someone else. That’s what he wants. I need to be strong and push through the pain.
Once I can draw a full breath into my lungs without letting out a sob of defeat, I pull away. "Thank you, Jack.”
"Of course, that’s what friends are for. Now tell me what the hell happened out there? I thought you and Drew were like, a thing? He's uber possessive over you. Now it looks like he’s engaged, and I didn’t even know the guy was dating someone."
I snort and swipe at my damp cheeks. I can only imagine how much of a hot mess I look. "Well, apparently, the way he feels about me is very different from the way he feels about her."
“I know it hurts, but you’ll get through it.” She holds my tray up, and I hug it tight to my chest like it's a shield that can save me from this nightmare of an evening. "Look at me. Why are you here? Why are you doing this?”
"To work."
"No. Wrong. You’re here for your mother, remember that. This is a job, and you're here to earn money, to pay for her treatments, and to put food on the table. You’re not here for him. This isn’t about him.”
Another sigh passes my lips, and my shoulders seem to ease with the reminder of why I’m here and doing this at all. "You're right. I’m here for my mother. To help her.”
"Exactly, and if you go back out there and make any kind of scene, they will kick you out of here, and this whole night will have been for nothing. We have over a thousand dollars in tips accumulated for the night. I'd hate to see you lose all that over one stupid guy."
Per usual, she's right. She's always right. I tug her into another quick one-armed hug, the tray trapped between us. "I'll pull it together. I can always lose my shit later.”
She leans back and winks. "And I'll steal one of these pricey bottles of champagne to help with that breakdown. Emotional crises always feel better with some good alcohol."
A laugh escapes me, and I turn to face the bar. More drinks, more endless circles. Only a couple more hours, and I can go home. All I have to do is make it through the rest of the night, and I’ll never have to see him again. Jackie gives me a hard smack on the ass as I walk away, and I turn to glare at her over my shoulder, playfully.
“Go serve those drinks,” she calls, and I shake my head.
The bartender and his assistant load my tray, and I make the rounds again. I keep my gaze averted, reminding myself that I’m here to make money, but then I catch a glimpse of Sebastian outof the corner of my eye. It feels like he’s hovering at my back, but he’s not doing anything wrong so I don't bother confronting him. I notice that he’s got his phone pressed to his ear, and there’s an uncanny expression etched into his features. I haven’t seen him wear this expression before. It’s not...sadness, but something deeper. Usually, he offers the world nothing but a fake mask, but whatever is going on, on the other line of that phone must be wavering enough for him to forget to keep it in place. Feeling his eyes on me, I look away and continue serving drinks. I don’t want to draw any more attention to myself.
My feet are starting to ache, the pain mirroring the one in my chest, but quitting isn’t an option. Not for me. I make another circle around the room, and as I’m about to turn and head back toward the bar, I’m cut off by another one of Drew's friends. His hulking frame blocks my path. I look up at him, ready to tell him to kick rocks, but the words stick in my throat. In his eyes, I see great sadness and pain. The fake smile I’ve worn all night slips away.
"Please move. I have drinks to serve."
"I will in a minute, but I want you to know this is nothing more than an act. A way for his father to make connections. He doesn't give a shit about that woman. You’re the only thing that matters to him."
The pity in Lee’s tone only angers me further. I don’t want his pity. I don’t want anything but a paycheck from these assholes. "I don't give a shit. If I was the only thing that mattered, he would’ve given me a heads-up, a warning. It doesn’t matter now. He's still a dick. He's always been a dick, and I realize now that I was stupid and blind for getting close to him, but no worries. I understand my place now. But, just to keep things interesting, tell him if he wants to continue tutoring, I'm doubling my fee. Let's call it asshole inflation."
I shove the last drink on my tray into his chest and slip past him, walking away with my head held high. Now that the speeches are over, some of the partygoers start to funnel out, and the people inside thin out. It’s tempting to skip out early, but I can’t risk it, not with so much money on the line. Which sucks when all I want to do is run. It’s hard to ignore his existence when he’s standing across the room, his eyes tracking my every move.
The petty urge to grab one of his friends and take them into the corner and kiss them flits through my brain, but I let it pass. There’s no need to start a fight, at least not until I get my tips. Time trickles by slowly, but I push on. I keep an eye out for Drew, his friends, and his father and maintain my distance at all costs. Any minute now, I’ll be able to walk out of this place and never have to look back to this terrible fucking night.
On my last trek to the bar, I notice Drew's father standing by the back door leading out to the service hall. Something is wrong. I can feel it. Drew saunters up behind him, and I cut my gaze away from them. It's none of my business.He's not my business. He made that very fucking publicly clear.Then why the hell do I care? Why am I wondering if he’s okay? If something is going on?