Page 3 of Unravel Me

“I’m guessing your long night has something to do with Jackson?” he asks, and I snap my neck to look at him, lips ajar.

“Wha—”

“Fuck you, Jackson,” he mimics my line from before, and I can’t help but let out a yelp of a chuckle, even if nothing about this is even slightly funny.

“Oh right, you heard that.”

“Hope he’s not the one responsible for the ring on that finger of yours.” He nods towards my hand, and I glance at the heavy stone on my finger.

“Thank you for reminding me to take this off as soon as possible.” I bring the smoke back to my mouth, disgusted with myself and needing it all the same.

“I’m sorry for oversharing. I think I had a bit too much champagne.”

That’s an understatement.

“You call that oversharing? Darlin’, where I'm from, everyone knows everything about everyone. Hell, I don’t even know your name, so don’t apologize to me. Done nothing wrong that I can see.” He runs a hand through that dirty blonde hair, his forearm flexing, showing off a splatter of tattoos inside his arms as my eyes unwillingly land on his face.

My own flushes and I lean on the railing beside him.

“My name is Audrey.” He doesn’t reply, but I continue. “And I'm in this ridiculous outfit because I was planning my engagement party two hours ago.”

“Congratulations?” he asks, facing me.

“Thank you, but it’s actually off.” I inhale a sharp breath. “I found out my fiancé, Jackson, was cheating on me. He has been for months actually...it started before he even asked me to marry him.”

I look up as sudden tears cloud my vision, and shame envelops me like a cloak. The man’s —who still hasn’t told me his name—eyebrows knit tightly together, and he hesitantly moves a bit closer to me.

“Well, fuck you Jackson, indeed,” he says gruffly, and I laugh, but it quickly turns to sniffling, and I tuck my face away from him, embarrassment building in my belly.

“Thank you...I'm…I’m sorry. Crying in front of a stranger was not on my list of to-dos tonight.”

“Audrey,” he starts, and my stomach clenches in response. He says my name like he’s known me for years. “Remember what I said about apologizing? Stop it. You have every right to be pissed and cry or whatever the hell you want to feel. That’s fucked up. Excuse my language.”

I nod, the voice in my head louder than this kind stranger. “Maybe I’m naive. Maybe this is just how men are. No offense,” I add, glancing his way.

“Sadly, you’re not wrong. Not all of us, but a lot of guys don’t know a good thing when they have it. But that doesn’t excuse what he did.”

I bite my lip, unsure what to even say to this stranger who knows my most vulnerable secret.

“Don’t take this the wrong way, but if I just ended my engagement, I’m not sure I’d be so…composed?”

“Ha!” I throw my head back, laughing through the tears. “I chucked my phone into the wall, creating a hole, and drank an entire bottle of champagne. Trust me, I’m barely holding it together,” I shot back, but he smirked at me, releasing his grip on the railing.

“You shared something with me, so I’ll even the playing field, okay?” He muses and I nod, yet again having nothing to lose. And oddly enough, standing here with this stranger is better than being alone with my thoughts.

“When my Mimi found out my Papa was deep into gambling again, after he’d sworn he’d stopped, she solved it by grabbing her shotgun and giving him two choices. Leave before she could shoot him or change his ways. He lived to be ninety years old. They stayed married, and he never gambled again.”

I snort in disbelief, but his face stays the same.

“Oh, you’re dead serious, aren't you?”

“Of course, I am.”

“So, are you suggesting I wait for my cheating ex-fiancé to get home and threaten him with a weapon?” I ask, amused, and he laughs, scrubbing a palm across his five o’clock shadow.

“No, I’m just saying there’s a lot of ways to deal with shit in life. And you gotta do it in the way that’s right for you.”

I shake my head as his pocket chimes, and he slides his phone into his palm. “Well, duty calls.”