Total pages in book: 122
Estimated words: 112884 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 564(@200wpm)___ 452(@250wpm)___ 376(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 112884 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 564(@200wpm)___ 452(@250wpm)___ 376(@300wpm)
eleven
Lexi
“I’m so, so sorry,” Kirby says, his voice filled with regret. “You deserve better than him.”
“Like who?” Trent sneers at him as he smooths down his jacket that not two seconds ago Kirby fisted in his hands. “Like you?” He motions with his chin.
“Like anyone who will treat her with respect.” He looks at me, but I can’t turn and look into his eyes. “Who will raise her up and not knock her down to make themselves feel better.” My eyes watch Trent’s face as he says the words. Wondering if he’s going to say anything back to Kirby. “Anyone but someone like you.” The tears were stinging at my eyes when I stepped outside of the door and heard Trent’s words about my father. I wipe one away from my cheek, forcing the others back at bay. I will not let him see that he’s hurt me. “You deserve better, Lexi,” Kirby declares, and I wish I had the balls to look up at him but I don’t. I don’t have the balls to do anything. Instead, I listen to him walk away. “Excuse me,” he says and I look back and see this little altercation has drawn a crowd.
My eyes are on the security people turning and telling everyone there is nothing to see here. “Now look at what you have done.” I hear his voice and look back to see him standing closer to me. “Look at the fucking scene that you’ve caused.” He shakes his head.
“The scene I’ve caused?” I point to my chest and look down to see if I’m bleeding through my dress because that is the pain I’m feeling. Like someone has just taken a knife and stabbed me in the heart. “I wasn’t even out here.”
“You,” he growls between clenched teeth, “were the root of this scene. Did you fuck him?” I gasp and take a step back away from him. “You better tell me now before I find out.”
“How could you even ask that?” I hiss at him. “How could you think I would do that?”
“I don’t know anything anymore,” he grumbles. “All I know is you’ve made a laughingstock out of me tonight.”
“Me?” I point to myself. “I made a laughingstock out of you?” I can’t help but repeat his words because, surely, I’ve heard him wrong. Surely, my ears are playing tricks on me.
“We need to get back inside”—he puts his shoulders back—“and make sure no one is talking about this shit. Should have fucking laid his ass out,” he mumbles about Kirby and I want to laugh in his face. There would only be one person laying the other one out, and it would not be him laying Kirby out. He grabs my hand and pulls me with him back into the room.
People mingle everywhere and not one person looks over at us. I walk back into the room with a smile on my face. My eyes go to table two, hoping to see Kirby sitting there with his date. But the two seats are empty. I let go of his hand as I make my way back to my own seat, sitting down and smiling at Cheryl, who is eating the second course. “How is the food?” I ask her, putting the linen napkin back on my lap.
“Better than the taste testing.” She smiles. “Everyone is having such a good time.”
She doesn’t even mention the altercation that took place not ten minutes ago. “That is amazing.” I fake smile at her as Trent sits next to me, putting his glass of bourbon in front of his dish.
“Isn’t this amazing?” Cheryl asks Trent.
“Perfect,” he replies, leaning and kissing my cheek, “just like my wife.”
“Isn’t he sweet?” she says and all I can do is smile at her. The smile feels like it’s plastered on my face. The smile I have no choice but to give right now. The whole night all I do is put on this front when I am crying inside.
People come up to me all night long, telling me how incredible the night is. Even the silent auction blows up. People start trickling out, and when it’s just a handful of people left, Trent stands up. “We should get going,” he announces and I get up, grabbing my purse.
“Don’t forget your flowers,” Cheryl reminds me of the bouquet of white roses Kirby had given to both of us to thank us for tonight, something that made me stand there speechless.
“She doesn’t need more flowers at home,” Trent declares. “You should donate them to the hospital with all the other flowers.”
“Of course,” Cheryl says as she watches Trent walk over to Dr. Visabell to say goodbye. “You should at least get the card he wrote,” Cheryl urges, her voice low and I nod at her, not willing to make another scene.