Page 45 of Sexting His Son's Ex
My high is ruined with the truth.
And truths are the hardest to come to terms with.
13
JOVIE
It’s beena full twenty-four hours and counting since I messaged Santino and every second that passes is slowly killing me. I want to message him. I miss him more than when the flowers bloom in spring.
The gravity of the situation hit me pretty heavily the day before yesterday when our messages got heated again.
Basically, I told myself that was the last time talking to him.
And I meant it.
I’ve even changed my phone number.
There’s no way for him to get ahold of me now. I can go back to my normal life without being consumed by Santino Salvati.
Staring at myself in the mirror, exhaustion has me exhale a long slow breath. Dark circles around my eyes seem more hollowed than they really are. I’ve tossed and turned the last two nights, riddled with guilt and apprehension.
Deciding to speak to Santino in a revenge plot was selfish of me. I’m not that kind of person and even though I know he isa powerful man, I’m pretty positive he isn’t going to care about a stranger he was messaging. Why would he? He probably has women throwing themselves at him every day, multiple times a day.
I bet the man has more sex than I will in my entire life.
I shiver at the thought of him with any other woman but me. My insides churn with jealousy. I’m a shark in their blood invested waters, bleeding themselves dry for a chance at him.
“Time to move on. It’s what is best for everyone. You aren’t made for his world,” I tell myself, combing my brush through my wet hair. “And he isn’t made for yours. What would a man his age do with someone like me? A big shot mafia boss hanging out at a flower shop?” I snort, knowing every word I say to my reflection is true.
I check the time, debating if I want to close the shop today and refund any orders. I need a day to gather my thoughts, to relax. At the same time, keeping busy is probably a good idea. I need to do everything I can to keep my mind off Santino. If I’m left alone in this room, I’ll end up messaging him from my new number.
The only person who has it is Marlowe. I barely talk to anyone anyway. It was a good reason to clean my phone out of everyone I don’t talk to and keep the ones I do. Luckily, the shop has its own landline, so I didn’t need to worry about interference.
A knock from downstairs has me groan. When I double check the time, I curse.
I misread it.
I’m thirty minutes behind schedule. The shop is due to open in an hour and that means Marlowe is down there waiting on me to open up the door so we can have our morning coffee together.
Groaning, I tighten the belt on my robe and meander downstairs, taking my sweet time. The moment I open the door to the main floor, the aromatic floral scent hits me and I inhale, relaxing instantly.
I rub my eyes and yawn my way to the door to unlock it.
Marlowe waves, keeping her face still and stern. That’s as much energy in the mornings that she gives, and I can relate.
“Jeez. You look like crap. Did you go out last night? Without me?” Marlowe shoves the cup of coffee at my chest. “How rude. I wasn’t even invited.”
I lock the door behind her and take the first sip of a smores latte with extra marshmallow fluff. “I needed this. Thank you.”
She throws one hand on her hip, her long black nails tapping against her studded belt. “You need to tell me why you went out without me. Never go anywhere alone, Jovie. Haven’t I taught you that?”
“Calm down. I didn’t go out last night.” I walk by her, the buzz of the printer startling me when it begins to print orders for me.
I love that when an order comes in, it prints automatically to inform me throughout the day. Overnight, when the shop is closed, it prints all orders that came through the night. Considering it is still printing, I have a busy day ahead of me.
Good. Taking the day off would be a mistake.
“Come upstairs with me. I’m behind and need to finish getting ready.” I climb up the steps to my apartment and Marlowe’s huge platform shoes thud against every stair.
