Page 41 of Unwrapped
He slow blinks and nuzzles my hand.
“Yeah. I thought so.” I nudge Alastair, who’s snuggled by my feet, beneath the blankets like always. He’s the reason just about everything I own is covered with orange fur. “And what about you?”
He chirps, stretching out his body along my shins.
I glance at Nigel, who’s seated on the coffee table. He spent the afternoon staring at me while I read—no doubt judging me for lazing around all day. With his paws tucked beneath him, and his perpetual bratty expression, my black Persian is the picture of pompous regality.
“Did you miss me, Nigel?”
He yawns.
“Figured as much.” Sighing, I return my attention to the book Lena dropped off when she checked on me earlier.
I desperately need an escape from my mind’s torment, but I haven’t had the motivation to write since returning from my upstate trip four days ago. Truthfully, I haven’t had the energy to do much of anything since I called things off with Dean.
The fleeting taste of happiness destroyed me. I was better off not knowing. I could have trudged along in my boring existence beneath the comforting blanket of ignorance.
But nope. I went against my better judgment and pursued something I had no business pursuing. I danced with the devil and got burned.
And it hurts so fucking much.
After eleven years of not speaking, I should be used to missing him, but it goes much deeper this time. We connected and shared truths we’d never dared to speak of. He let me see his heart, and I showed him mine. Now the ache is unbearable. I can’t stop thinking about him. His eyes. The way he held me. How good it felt to be wanted, even if it was only for a little while.
I know Lena said I shouldn’t settle for less than I deserve, but now I’m second-guessing my decision to walk away. Maybe I should’ve held on tighter.
After all, I did exactly what I accused Dean of doing when I wrote off our relationship instead of giving it a chance. Maybe we could havefigured something out. Now, I’ll never know. I pull Rupert closer and bury my face in his fur as my eyes well with tears. Again. They roll down my cheeks in silence, and I cling to my cat, wishing for Dean’s arms around me.
Stop it, Cami.
I need to get my shit together before I face Ryan tomorrow. It’s bad enough I’ll have to seehimafter everything he put me through. Now it’ll hurt even more, given his resemblance to Dean. A sob wracks my frame, my tears dampening Rupert’s fur. What a mess I’ve gotten myself into. Even if Ryan weren’t the best man, I’d still be kicking myself for agreeing to attend a Christmas Eve wedding when I should be home, eating cookies and watchingElf.
Tomorrow is also Lena’s birthday. I’m taking her out for breakfast to celebrate. Hopefully, she’ll give me the mother of all pep talks, so I can survive this wedding.
My phone rings, startling Nigel, who scurries out of the room. I release Rupert and wipe my face, then reach for the device and glance at the screen. It’s Jude. He’s one of those rare people who don’t believe in texting.
“Hello?” I answer with forced cheerfulness, hoping he won’t be able to tell I’ve been crying.
“Hey, Cami. I just wanted to touch base about tomorrow.”
I groan and squeeze my eyes shut. “You have no idea how badly I want to fake an illness to get out of going. No offense to you, obviously, but I’m dreading it with every fiber of my being.”
His deep chuckle rumbles in my ear. “Oh, stop. We’ll have fun. I won’t let that asshole ruin your night.”
“Pretty sure being in the same zip code as him is enough to do the trick.”
“It’s all about mindset, sugar. If you go into it thinking the night is gonna suck, it probably will, but I need you push those thoughts aside and trust me.”
“I’ll try.”
“If you remember from school, Senator Dickwad never liked me. He’ll definitely keep his distance when he sees us together.”
“What if he doesn’t though?”
“I’ll handle it. Listen, all you need to do is show up in your pretty dress, smile and nod a few times, hug the bride, and take advantage of the open bar.”
“Please don’t let me get too shitfaced.”
“How shitfaced is too shitfaced? Because you could definitely use a few drinks. I mean, are you worried about getting tipsy, or do you just want to avoid the level of drunk you were when I rescued you from that frat party?”
