Total pages in book: 160
Estimated words: 151864 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 759(@200wpm)___ 607(@250wpm)___ 506(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 151864 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 759(@200wpm)___ 607(@250wpm)___ 506(@300wpm)
So I put my fist through the window of my car, too.
DRINK. IT’S EASIER TO OBTAIN than a woman right now. I haven’t got the energy to charm any females, but I have the energy to lift a tumbler to my lips. It’s been three days of continuous drunkenness. Continuous numbness.
I fall into the nearest bar I can find, and dead set on drinking myself into another mindless oblivion to maintain my fucked-up state, I order a bottle of Scotch and neck the first two glasses in quick succession. My phone starts flashing on the bar, over and over, more calls coming in from all the people I love—Mum, Gina, Sal. I’ve ignored them for days, because I still can’t bring myself to speak to any one of them. I’m all out of words.
For the first time in my life, I’m ignoring the approaches from woman after woman. I snub their attempts to draw me into conversation, focusing on the amber liquid in my grasp. I hate myself. I hate that I can’t pick up where I left off before I met Lainey, and I hate myself for not wanting to. Because I doubt any woman walking this planet will trigger the same levels of want that she did.
“Fuck.” I slug back another drink and slam my empty down, quickly refilling it again. I’m slumped over the wood, not just because my body feels heavy and defeated, but because I’m wasted and need the support.
“Should have known I’d find you here.” Sal’s voice drifts into my ears, muffled and distant.
I drag my heavy, drunk head to the side and half sneer at him. “Why aren’t you at home fixing your marriage?”
He takes a seat on the stool next to me and taps the bar, signaling to the barman to get him a glass. “My marriage is fine. You’re the one who needs fixing.”
An unexpected burst of laughter rumbles up from my toes, and I throw my head back, hysterical, having to quickly catch the edge of the bar to stop myself toppling off my stool. “You snogged your PA, Sal. How is your marriage fine?”
“At least I didn’t fall in love with her.”
My head flies around, my laughter sucked up in a second. Sal looks at me, his eyebrows nearly on top of his bald head. “I didn’t fall in love with her.” I sound as pathetic as that statement actually is. How the hell does he know? I don’t know, but I need to deny it. No one needs to ever know that my pussy heart was crushed by a woman.
“Gina,” Sal says simply, accepting his drink from the barman. I curse my PA to hell. “You’ve been MIA for three days, Ty. People are worried.”
So much for no one needing to ever know. “Gina doesn’t know what she’s talking about.”
“I spoke to your mother, too.”
“She definitely doesn’t know what she’s talking about.”
“And Lainey.”
Oh.
The mention of her name makes my teeth grind so hard they could turn to grit in my mouth. “She’s a fucking liar, so you definitely shouldn’t listen to her.” I return forward to the bar and swig more Scotch. I refuse to ask him what she said. I don’t want to know, and the increasing rage bubbling steadily in my gut could be dangerous for everyone involved. I feel volatile. Reckless. Destructive.
“She quit.”
“Good. Maybe I’ll come back to work tomorrow.” That’s a lie. I don’t plan on going back to work for some time yet. I’m happy basking in my depression.
“I didn’t want her to,” Sal says.
“Then you’re a fool. After what she’s done to you and Moya, you shouldn’t be giving her the time of day.”
“Moya did it. Not Lainey.”
“I believe Lainey kissed you.” I wretch at the thought, and I’m slurring terribly now, my words distorted. “Kissed,” I repeat. “The woman I love kissed you.” I’m so drunk, I don’t realize what I’ve said until I look at Sal challengingly and find a sorrowful face. “Don’t,” I warn, returning to my drink. My faithful drink.
“I’m sorry, man,” Sal says, placing a palm on my shoulder. “I really am.”
“It’s Moya you owe the apology to. Go home and say sorry.”
“I don’t need to.”
I turn an incredulous look on him. “She hired a honeytrap, you prick. And you fell into the trap.”
“I was a dick, Tyler. One stupid moment of weakness, and I can say, hand on my sorry heart, that I will never again be so fucking stupid. The guilt, Ty. I swear, I thought it would kill me. Moya and I have had our challenges, but, trust me, I’m going to fix it. I’m not destroying my marriage over a stupid two-second kiss. Lainey’s not going to tell her.”
I’m laughing again. “So I heard. What a saint Lainey is.” Is that supposed to redeem her of her sins? Fucking joke.