Total pages in book: 27
Estimated words: 24565 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 123(@200wpm)___ 98(@250wpm)___ 82(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 24565 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 123(@200wpm)___ 98(@250wpm)___ 82(@300wpm)
“I saw the pictures,” I practically hiss now. My hands ball into fists, my nails digging into my palms. “You and Raina at that club - if you can even call it a club. A sex den, more like.”
Patrick’s face goes pale, his eyes wide as he scrambles for a response. It’s clear from my expression that the game is up. Finally, he holds up his hands. “Listen, Libby, I’m sorry. Can we at least talk about this?”
Why does everyone keep suggesting that? “There’s nothing to talk about!” I snap. “I saw you fucking some other girl in an underground sex dungeon, Patrick! And don’t even try to deny it. Keeping pictures on your computer? Seriously? If you’re going to cheat on me, the least you could do is be stealthy about it.”
“Wait, you went through my laptop?” Patrick demands, eyes narrowing. “Why were you on my computer? You didn’t even ask!”
I’m shaking now with rage.
“I was looking for baby pictures to make you a birthday collage!” I scream, my face red. “I was trying to be good to you!”
But Patrick merely shakes his head.
“I can’t believe you broke into my laptop,” he mutters, his expression going from apologetic to offended. “Who does that?”
“It doesn’t matter,” I growl. “How the hell could you do this to me?”
My boyfriend holds up his hand.
“Look,” Patrick replies, and I can see him getting angrier. Good. He deserves to feel what I’m feeling. “You need to get a grip, Libby. I made a mistake, okay? There’s an itch I have, and yes, I scratch it with Raina. I have needs, Libby, and the truth is that you don’t meet them.”
“What the hell is that supposed to mean?” I demand.
“I care about you, okay?” he replies. “But that doesn’t mean I’m fulfilled, all right? Face it, Libby: you’re kind of plain.”
“Plain?”
“Suburban,” he says, sounding defensive. “Boring. Whatever you want to call it. “You’re old-fashioned, Libby. I’ll go with you to Bible study, I’ll pick up food for you, do whatever you want, but I need adventure, and you’re stuck in the mud. That’s the truth. Not to mention…” he trails off, gesturing vaguely at my body indicating that I’m big.
WTF? Plain? Big?
The words rattle around in my brain, and whatever composure I was maintaining before goes out the window in an instant. “Oh, sure,” I say, my voice quivering, although whether from offense or anger, I have no idea. “Because Raina’s your dream woman, I get it.” My volume is getting louder by the moment, but I can’t control it.
“Libby-” Patrick begins again in a tired voice.
“You find that attractive, Patrick?” I demand, shouting now as I stalk towards him. “Huh? You think women who look like Elvira are sexy while they rattle the bars of a cage in some underground sleaze club? Because normal is so boring, is that it?!” Patrick falls silent, his lips twitching, but his eyes never leave mine, and that defiant stare is enough to set me off again. “Say something, damn it!” I scream.
Not breaking eye contact, Patrick crosses his arms deliberately before uttering a single, damning word: “Yes.”
I stand there staring at him, fuming. It’s all out in the open now, Pandora’s box has been opened, and the chaos is spilling over. I don’t even remember what I had planned for the evening. My rage is all-consuming, and even thinking in coherent sentences is too much to ask. I open my mouth and close it again several times, trying to come up with something that will cut him as deeply as his words and actions have cut me. But nothing sparks, so instead I just stare the boy down, seething.
The tension between us is almost at a breaking point when I’m saved by the bell - or rather, by the shrill text tone of Patrick’s cell phone. It makes me jump, and it’s all I can do not to rip it out of his hands when he breaks eye contact to look at it. It’s probably another one of his ladies of the night. How many does he even have, anyway? The thought makes me want to retch.
I watch as Patrick straightens, blanching, as he looks down at his phone again. There’s another chime as another text message comes in, and then another. More and more pings follow, like a tidal wave of texts, and my sneer slowly turns into a smile as I watch Patrick’s eyes go wide. The inevitable wave of judgment is coming. I didn’t think I would be lucky enough to actually witness it, and I watch smugly as Patrick begins to breathe hard, panicking. Slowly, he returns his eyes to mine, his mouth hanging open in disbelief. “What did you do?” he asks. “Libby, what the hell did you do?”
He’s looking at me like I’m the bad guy, and that just winds me up all over again. “Easy,” I reply hotly. “I sent your pictures to our Bible study group. It’s obvious you’d rather spend your time with your latex whore anyways, so why should you care what they think?”