Total pages in book: 79
Estimated words: 70607 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 353(@200wpm)___ 282(@250wpm)___ 235(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 70607 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 353(@200wpm)___ 282(@250wpm)___ 235(@300wpm)
"Do you need me to help you take it off?" The words come out of my mouth, and even I'm surprised that they did. She looks back at me, her eyes going big now. "Oh, I don't mean it like that." I shake my hand in front of her. "I just meant it's big." I motion with my hands by my sides, and I really fucking hope the floor opens up and swallows me. "Not that you’re big. I mean, there is a lot of dress there."
"Are you done?" She laughs as she looks at me, holding the dress to her chest.
"I'm going to just sit here and drink," I say, and she nods, walking into the other room. "What the hell is wrong with you?" I mumble to myself, shrugging off my jacket and tossing it on the floor. It's not like I need it anymore anyway. I sit down and pour half the glass of whiskey, taking a gulp and waiting for her to come back into the room.
"That's better," she says when she comes into the room, and I see her wearing white satin pajama pants with a matching short-sleeve button-down shirt. Bride is embroidered on the left side of her shirt.
"Is there anything in here that doesn't scream bride?" I ask as she plops down next to me on the couch. She leans forward, filling her glass with just as much whiskey as I have.
Curling her feet under her, she takes a sip of the drink. "Definitely not the tattoo I got on the base of my back."
I stare at her, shocked. "You're joking." I don't know if she's telling me the truth or not.
When she rolls her eyes and laughs out loud, I breathe a sigh of relief. "Of course I'm joking." I pick up the glass of whiskey and take a gulp of it when she says, "It's on my vagina." And the whiskey goes everywhere. I cough and choke the whole time, and she doesn't even move to help me. She doesn't do anything but take a drink of her own whiskey.
"I'm choking," I say between breaths, and all she does is slap me on the back.
"Drink more whiskey. You'll feel fine." She takes another shot, and she looks like she's going to gag. "Horrible."
I take a gulp of the whiskey, and it burns going down from all the coughing. "I'm going to go out on a limb and say this is the worst day of my life." I look over at her, waiting for her to agree with me.
She nods. "That was what I was thinking," she points out, "yesterday." Bringing the glass back up to her mouth, she takes a bigger gulp.
"Why didn't you call and tell me?"
"Would you have been able to not punch him in the face?" she asks, and I look up at the ceiling.
"Not even close," I admit. "If you would have called me last night, I don't know what I would have done to him to be honest. He spent the night fucking drinking, and I kept thinking that it was just cold feet."
"More like polar ice," she jokes, and I laugh. "I'm sorry I didn't tell you. I don't know why I did what I did, but I wanted him to hurt as much as I did when I read his words." She puts her arm on the back of the couch and lays her head on it. "I wanted to make him feel as small as he made me feel." She blinks away the tears as she tries to stay strong.
"Honestly, my head is going around and around in circles." I lift my arm to twirl it in a circle, and it feels like it's five hundred pounds as it just drops back down.
"That's the whiskey." She laughs at her own joke, and her eyes are so crystal blue now.
"It was spinning even more without the whiskey." I chuckle. "Now it's just like a slow-motion spinning."
"If it makes you feel better, I'm sorry you found out like this." Her voice is low and almost a whisper. "I hate that this happened to you." She smiles at me sadly. "I wish it was anyone but you."
"What do we do now?" I ask, taking a pull of the whiskey.
"I don't know about you, but I leave tomorrow," she says, her voice clear as day, and I sit up confused.
"Tomorrow?" I shriek. "What the fuck? That was not the answer I thought I would get. I thought you would be like let's go throw shit on their houses." I hold up my finger. "Or let's go spray-paint both their cars with cheaters on them." I hold up a second finger. "Or toiler paper their houses, or I don't know what else we could do, but why are you leaving?"