All the Wrong Choices by C.A. Harms

Chapter Ten

Danielle

It's Saturday,and one day past the date that Jonah had asked me to dinner. Every day since he asked, I've thought of it. I've battled with the idea of giving in and asking Addison to give me his number, and every day I've managed to talk myself out of it.

I'm intrigued; who wouldn't be. But everything gets complicated, and I'm not ready for complicated.

Walking into the kitchen, I start coffee and pick up my phone off the counter, scrolling through emails to waste time until it's ready. A new email arriving a few hours prior to an itinerary change caught my attention, and opening the email, I scroll over the information and feel my stomach sour instantly.

Ten days, nine nights in an over-the-water Villa in Fiji. As I read over the information, I feel the nauseated feelings grow stronger.

Cathryn M. Abbott and Matthew D. Harrington, leaving in four days from the Piedmont Triad International Airport, with a check-in time of six forty-three a.m.

My email is still connected to his account. We'd set it up that way during our honeymoon plans, and apparently, it has never been changed. More proof their lives are moving on without any thoughts of me is another kick to the stomach. I'm the pathetic girl who’s alone. I'm the one left behind while Cathryn is living the life as my replacement.

I don't know what comes over me, but the next thing I know, I'm dialing Matthew's number. My hands are shaking, and my heart is racing so rapidly I feel lightheaded—anger boiling inside of me, the need to lash out overpowering every other emotion inside me.

"Dani," he practically whispers my name, and I can hear the sounds of a chair being scooted across the floor. "Is everything okay?"

I laugh, a completely involuntary reaction to his words, but at this point, I have no control over myself. "Everything is great, Matthew. Perfect actually, and from the email I just got, I'd have to say things are really looking good on your end too."

"Email?"

"Oh yeah," I can feel myself losing the battle of control with each passing second, so I know I need to hurry this along. "Fiji, impressive," he says nothing. "If memory serves me correctly when I brought it up as a possible location for our sham of a honeymoon, you turned it down so fast I don't think I even got the full sentence out. It says on this itinerary the original booking date was six weeks before our wedding date, so that explains everything. You had it planned all along to take my sister, didn't you?"

I don't wait for him to respond; I'm boiling mad, on the verge of violence. When I get angry, I tend to cry, and the last thing I want him to think is I'm sitting over here, still reeling at the loss of our so-called relationship.

"The two of you deserve one another Matthew, you're both pathetic, and you both make me sick."

"Dani?"

"Don't Dani me, you piece of shit," my voice cracks, which only makes me even more pissed off. "Remove me from your account. I don't want a reminder every time you and my slut of a sister decide to plan another trip together."

"I never meant to hurt you."

"Now I think we both know that's a lie.” I'm the joke in all their conversations. "Unless you want me to go in and cancel your luxurious trip and reroute it to my own name, I suggest you do it now."

I hang up the phone, and without thinking, I throw it at the door and watch as pieces fly out to the left and right. Bracing my hands on the counter, I focus on taking one deep breath after another. No tears, I chant over and over; I refuse to give him any more of my tears.

* * *

Steppingoutside of the cellular phone store, I take out the new phone from the bag and press the button on the side. When the screen comes to life, I tap out a message and wait.

Within seconds my phone rings just as I knew it would.

Answering the call, I lift my new phone to my ear and brace myself for the backlash I know is coming.

"I've been calling you all day!" Addison isn't happy. She practically snarls the words, and I can almost picture her with her hand on her hip, her nostrils flaring with irritation. "I thought you ran away or worse. I stopped by your house, your car was gone, you wouldn't answer your door, and every call went to voicemail. Do you know how worried I've been?"

"I smashed my phone against my front door."

She stops yelling at me, and silence fills the space between us. I know she is still there because I can hear her breathing. She’s patiently waiting for me to be ready to tell her more.

“I got an email confirmation about an upcoming trip. He’d forgotten to change the email address on the account. Can you believe he's taking her to Fiji?" I step off to the side, ignoring those that pass me by as I lean back against the brick wall behind me. I focus on the pink nail polish on my toes, peeking out of the open-toe sandals I’m wearing.

I can still hear her breathing on the opposite end of the line, but still, she waits. I know without seeing me, she understands what this meant, how this has affected me.

"I didn't cry," I add, taking in a slow, calming breath, "I wanted to, I was so close, but I didn't cry."

Even though my eyes are pooling with them, I never shed even one while I was on the phone with the cheating bastard who has flipped my world upside down. Or so it feels like since the day I walked out of the church and left behind the image of my wedding, or what it was supposed to be.

"He doesn't deserve my tears," I add, focusing on breathing calmly.

"Or your anger," when Addison whispers the words, it's the snapping of the final string that holds me together. Closing my eyes, I give into the burning emotions inside of me, and for a few short minutes, I quietly sob. Not for him, not for my sister, but for me, I cry for me. I cry for the life envisioned, the rejection of being left behind, and the years I wasted being someone I wasn't.

"Are you up for a few drinks tonight?" I need a distraction.

"Martini's?" Our favorite quiet place to drink.

"Six o'clock?"

"You know it," without Addi on my side; I can honestly say I have no idea where I would be. She holds me up when I want to cave, and she pushes me forward when all I want is to hide. "Leave tonight up to me."

She ended the call before I had the chance to ask for details. I know her well enough to know she has an agenda. The last time she planned a night and invited me along, I found myself being kissed stupid in a parking lot by a hot orthodontist. A dreamy orthodontist who then offered to be my hookup whenever I needed him to be.

Tucking my phone in my pocket, I turn around and begin walking along the storefronts of Malcolm Drive, feeling better after my talk with Addison and my moment of weakness. I spend the day shopping, buying more things than I need, but retail therapy is good. Especially when I still possess a credit card on a shared account with a certain bastard who is dumb enough to not cancel the card.

A few dresses here, some matching shoes there, and of course, you need to accessorize. What's a new outfit without matching jewelry and lipstick? I don't even pay attention to price tags, because well, it isn't my money. My day was on my ex fiancé and his newfound love. I know without a doubt Matthew will pay the bill. Then he'd cancel the card or at least mine, and I'd be okay with that because the money will already be spent, and I'll have pretty things that can't be taken back.

Hours later, standing in my living room, looking at the mass amount of bags, I laugh. Hysterically bent over, holding my stomach, kind of laughing. I'm a mess, and I don't care, because for the first time in a long time, I feel like I've gained some revenge.

Six-fifteen I'm walking into Margarita's, wearing my new casual A-line olive-green dress. The skirt hits mid-thigh, and I've matched it with a cute pair of tan strappy sandals. There's a heel, which gives me height and shows off my legs even more. I'm an avid runner as well as an addict of spin classes, so if I work for it, I need to show it off. And for far too long I've been hiding all my hard work under what I thought was a decent man. Those times are gone.

I stand near the front counter waiting to be greeted; with my bag over my shoulder. I focus on the woman behind the pedestal. She's talking to a guest in front of me, smiling politely at me over their shoulder as if to keep me pleased since I'm waiting.

I had no idea someone had come in behind me until I felt the heat on my back from the closeness of another.

"We meet again," my shoulders tense, but I don't move. I know already who it is. There's no way to forget that deep soothing voice. "Maybe this time you won't ignore my invite for a dinner date."

"I told you," looking back over my shoulder, my words instantly are forgotten. I'm reminded of just how good-looking this man is, and I feel an instant spark of interest. I don't want to feel it, but it is out of my control.

"Hi," he smirks as if he knows just what he's doing to me, and it really isn't fair. "Did I mention last time how great you look in dresses?"

Shaking my head, I quickly look away to hide my flushed cheeks and find the woman at the counter smiling at me.

"Can I help you?"

I step up closer, really just to gain space, and the idea is lost to me when Jonah follows close behind. Suddenly he is at my side, our arms brushing against one another. "We are both here to meet some friends."

I hold my composure, my shoulders square and staring straight ahead. A smile tugging at my lips because how can one man be so alluring. It really isn't fair, and I know I'm not the only woman to notice.

"Table under the name Anthony Miller."

The petite hostess smiles at him before averting her gaze to look over the book before her. After I assume locating the reservation, she grabs two menus holding them out to the younger man at her side. "They are at table twelve."

As we step past her, she once again scans over Jonah appreciatively, and I hide my smile. He's managed to gain the attention of our hostess. She tells us to enjoy, and then Jonah presses his hand to the small of my back, leading me after the young man. Again the instant feeling of pure heat filters through my body, and I know, even if I try to, I won't be able to resist this man. Honestly, I'm not sure I want to any longer. What would a little fun hurt?

He is pure sin, and he knows just how to strike a need in someone, even if I've been trying to deny it.