Page 114 of Untying the Knot
“I don’t think you’re right. I think there could be a chance.” He grips my shoulder. “Can I ask you one thing?”
“Yeah.”
Looking me in the eyes, he asks, “Are you two sharing a hotel room?”
I swallow hard and nod. “We are.”
Lips pressed together, he nods. “Yeah, I very well think there might be a chance.”
* * *
Tonight,we’re supposed to mingle, taste wine, eat some meats and cheeses, and just enjoy being in the presence of love.
I wish that were the case because it’s not for me. I can’t be too sure about Myla. She seems so relaxed, it’s throwing me off. Maybe she’s not that uptight or tense because I signed the papers. Maybe she does feel free, and that’s why this charade is so easy for her. She knows that after this, she’s done.
“I’m not about to create drama around someone else’s wedding, okay? So let’s just do this wedding thing and then move on.”Move on. That’s her heart’s desire.
Whereas I know this is the last time I will be holding her, touching her, kissing her. Even if it is all for show. It’s the last time.
The last time I’ll say good night to her.
The last time I’ll see her all cuddly and adorable in the morning.
The last time I’ll get to tell her how beautiful she looks, even if it is in the privacy of our hotel room. After these next couple of days, it’s all over.
“Here you go,” Myla says, walking up to me with another glass of wine. Our fourth of the night.
“Thank you,” I answer.
“You know, when I was getting the wine, Kelsey came up to me and asked why you looked so sad. I told her it was because you had a hard time getting it up this morning and can’t get over it.”
I nearly spit out my wine as I turn toward her. “What?”
Chuckling, she brings her glass of wine to her lips and says, “Not really, but I’m glad you’re no longer pouting.”
“I wasn’t . . . Jesus, I wasn’t pouting.”
“Please, you were pouting.”
Banner walks up to us while holding a plate of meats in his hand and says, “Heard you couldn’t get it up this morning.”
I shoot a glare at Myla, who is now smirking—a genuine smirk—and I honestly can’t fucking remember the last time I saw her do that. “I might have said that to Banner because I was uncomfortable. Given our situation, I just said the first thing that came to mind.”
“It happens to all of us, man,” Banner says, gripping my shoulder. “No need to be ashamed.”
“I’m not ashamed. I’m just wondering why the hell that’s something we’re talking about when you didn’t even see me this morning.” I direct my attention toward Myla.
She taps the side of her head. “Don’t need to see you to know that cosmic shift in the air when you can’t get it up. It’s like a cloud of humidity surrounds us, a dull throb roaring through the moist air. He didn’t get it up. He didn’t get it up.”
I stare at her, truly fucking stare because color me confused. This is the fucking Myla I fell in love with. This is the girl whom I couldn’t get enough of. This is whom I thought I would spend the rest of my life with. Where has she been hiding?
Behind me.
Behind my dreams.
Behind my aspirations.Because of my fucked-up sense of entitlement.
I miss this girl so fucking much.
