Page 62 of When Forever Falls Apart

Beside the car is his motorcycle. I’d forgotten he rode it over to my place.

“Okay,” I say, careful not to make this any more uncomfortable. It’s clear Elliot wants to get out of here, and nothing I say will change his mind.

“I think it’s best if we just stay friends. Tonight was all pretend, right?” His words are heavy with resolution.

After an emotional clusterfuck of a day, I am too drained to even argue with him. Between Myles and Elliot, with their ever-shifting moods thanks to their relentless egos, I am this close to switching teams.

“Whatever you want, Elliot.” I step out of the car, the warm air greeting me as he hands me the keys with a solemn expression.

“Good night, Madelina.”

As I turn away, the weight of today hangs heavily on my shoulders. It wasn’t supposed to end like this, but after everything that has been said and done, being alone is probably for the best.

And that seems to be precisely what Elliot wants.

“It’s so busy today,” Billie mentions, sounding out of breath as she shuffles past me carrying a tray of passionfruit-glazed donuts. The vibrant tropical flavors are part of the new summer range, and paired with an iced tea, it’s a combo customers can’t seem to get enough of. Personally, I’m obsessed with the fall range. I’m a sucker for pumpkin-spiced anything.

I welcome the chaos as it distracts me from what happened yesterday. The only reason I managed to fall asleep last night was that the wine knocked me right out the moment my head hit the pillow.

Elliot is notably absent today. According to Billie, he’s wrapped up in some “urgent matter.” It annoyed the hell out of me that he chose to tell her instead of me. I can’t wrap my mind around the fact that I’ve been ghosted by the man who had the audacity to kiss me—twice, for that matter.

“There’s a really cute guy at table seven who asked about you,” Billie chimes, her eyes dancing playfully as she glances over my shoulder.

I subtly glance around the room, eventually allowing my gaze to settle on table seven. Sure, the man is hot, his dark brown hair framing a strong jawline, but I’m done with this whole dating bullshit. The last thing I want is to strike up a conversation and pull out all my best flirtatious moves only for it all to be another dead end with a pretty smile.

And for what?Another man caught up in his ego?No, thanks.

“Yeah, he’s okay,” I reply, only to let out a yawn.

Billie raises her hand as if to check my forehead. “Are you unwell? He’s gorgeous, and you’re single.”

“I want a break from men.”

“You want a break from men?” Billie repeats incredulously. “Do I need to call 9-1-1?”

I roll my eyes at her dramatic observation. “No, but it sounds like you should take that cute guy from table seven up on his offer, since you clearly need to get laid.”

Our banter is abruptly halted as the lunch rush begins, and we are run off our feet. Table Seven Guy, as we now call him, appears at the counter with a charming smile playing on his lips. Instead of approaching him, I nudge Billie forward, as I’m too mentally drained to partake in any flirtation.

When the lunch rush is finally over and our last customer leaves, Billie quickly tidies up the dining area while I retreat to the back. With no plans for the evening, I consider inviting Billie to unwind together until she says, “I have a date tonight.”

“Table Seven Guy?” I ask with a wide grin.

“Oh, how I wish. It’s actually a blind date,” Billie clarifies, biting her lip.

I tilt my head, then arch my brow. “Hold on a hot minute. Did Eva set this up?”

“Yeah, so what?” She shrugs, watching me closely. “Why, what’s wrong?”

“Geez, she’s really trying to offload this poor guy. She tried to set me up with him, too!”

“Really? Did you go on a date with him?”

“No, blind dates freak me out. What if he’s old or has one of those ridiculous haircuts? You know, business at the front, party at the back,” I say, my imagination running wild.

Billie scowls. “A mullet?”

“Yeah, a mullet.” I chuckle, only to flinch. “What if he’s a conjoined twin?”