Leaning against the wall, he crosses his arms as his lips turn upwards, forming an annoying smile with a hidden agenda. “Ouch! Jealousy is an ugly trait on you.”

“Jealousy?” I laugh. “I know what it’s like to be with a real man so don’t for a second think you’re worth my time.”

“So tell me then, Presley, if you know what it’s like to be with a real man, why did you break it off with him?”

He catches me off guard. “Excuse me? How did you know I broke it off?”

“Office gossip. Helps that I’m sleeping with her.”

I am at a loss for words; the subject of Jason and I no longer being together is still very raw, especially in my current state of mind with lack of sleep and morning coffee. It overwhelms me.

He isn’t worth a single second more, so I walk past him.

Ignorance is bliss.

For the rest of the day he is smart enough to avoid me. It doesn’t stop him from canoodling with Dee, and because I am exhausted, my hearing is impaired and I accidentally find myself asleep for a few minutes at my desk.

“Pres…Presley.” A hand shakes my shoulder. Dazed, I focus in on Vicky’s face.

“Did I fall asleep?” I mumble.

Vicky laughs, handing me a cup of coffee. “Uh yeah. Rough night?”

“Yeah.”

“You know what you need? A girls’ night out. Drinks, dancing, and just some good clean fun.”

“Clean fun?”

“Well I could have said dirty fun but one step at a time, honey.”

“Thanks Vicky, but I just want to head home and—”

“And what? Wallow in self-pity and cry yourself to sleep?”

“No,” I lie. “I’m exhausted. Maybe next weekend?”

She raises her eyebrows at me. “Okay, next weekend, but call me if you change your mind.”

With only an hour left, I speed-read through some work, and the second it turns five I’m packed up and ready to go home. It has been a long time since I have felt so drained, and boy does it take me back to my early twenties when I would party all night.

I enter the already-cramped elevator and squish myself into the wall. Just when I think we’ve maxed the people in it, another body mashes against mine. I look up to be met by the Jerk’s reflection. Ignoring him wouldn’t be difficult, but the more people enter the elevator, the more appropriate he feels it is to practically rub his body against mine. Act cool, pretend you’re not bothered one bit, and totally ignore how good he smells. Check, check, and fucking check!

It may seem silly but holding my breath helps, even though I look like a complete idiot. Thankfully, I find myself distracted by the buzz of my cell. It’s a message from my hairdresser, Chantelle.

Pres, what’s going on? I saw Jason today at a restaurant.

There is an attachment, and I open it to be met with a photo of Jase locking lips with another woman. I stare in disbelief; this cannot be him, and just to try and prove myself wrong, I zoom in on the photo.

It’s him alright.

My hands start to shake and the confined space in the elevator starts to claw at me. Suddenly I feel like I’m suffocating, my body overheating as a result of the jealousy boiling up inside me.  If I cried, here, now, everyone would see how pathetic I was.

“Nice picture. You stalking other couples?”

“It’s my fiancé,” I say without thinking.

I quickly put the cell back into my bag, praying for the elevator to hit the ground floor. Staring at the numbers, the second the door opens I am out of there so fast I give myself whiplash, desperately trying to escape the sound of my name being called behind me.

The tight grip on my arm startles me, and on first instinct, I wrestle my arm out of his grip.

“Hey. Jesus, Malone, would you just stop for a second?”

I turn to face him and surprisingly, he looks concerned.

“What, Haden? You want to point out how funny that picture was? Or how I mustn’t be any good at sex which is why he strayed?”

“Calm down, will you?”

“I’m sorry. Someone sent me a photo of my fiancé practically fucking another woman a week after we broke up. Excuse me for thinking that the word calm does not belong in my vocabulary right now!”

“Ex, Presley. Ex-fiancé. Plus he wasn’t fucking her. Woman, you need a reality check. Men don’t huddle with their pals eating bowls of ice cream as they watch The Notebook. They go find some new pussy and fuck it like a jackrabbit.”

He said what?!

A thousand shades of red are flashing before me, and for a split second I wonder what it’s like to do time in jail for murdering someone with your bare hands. The nerve of the prick! The worst part is, I’m scared there is some truth to it and the ass is me, living in a world of denial. Stop telling yourself Jason is, was, the perfect guy.

“Wouldn’t hurt you to follow in his footsteps,” the Jerk chides.

I lift my hand to strike him but he catches me just in time, strengthening his grip on my wrist. “Don’t even think about it.”

“I tell you what, you leave me the fuck alone and I promise I won’t smash that pretty boy face of yours,” I fire back.

“Pretty? C’mon Pres, you can do better than that.”

“I’m not your friend, so cut the nickname bullshit. Honestly Haden, let me go. Despite what Jason’s done, I need to go home.”

He lets me go and, defeated, I straighten my arm.

“I’m not surprised he strayed. You need to pull that stick out of your ass and put something else in there instead, Ice Queen.”

What did he just call me? I’d heard a rumor that someone in the office had dubbed me Ice Queen but it never occurred to me that it would be him. I let out a fake laugh as I watch his cocky grin quickly disappear.

“It will be a cold day in hell before you are attached to the end of any stick coming near me.”

He closes the gap between our bodies. I never paid attention to how tall he is until he stands head-to-head, facing me. Running his finger along my chin, he leans in and whispers in the softest voice, “Frigid little Presley couldn’t please her man…. Small Dick probably got fed up with you.”

And with that, there is no holding back. I step away to gain some distance and swing my fist in his face to connect with his jaw.

Bam.

Game over.

 

I run so fast from him, still reeling from the fact I had punched him in the mouth. The adrenaline is coursing through my veins at a rapid rate, and when I make it home I slam the door hard, terrified yet somehow exhilarated from the excitement of it all. Collapsing onto my bed, my knuckles begin to throb in pain; seeking comfort in an ice pack and bottle of red will do the trick.

What was I thinking?

Somehow, I had allowed the anger and uncertainty to build up so that it was only a matter of time before I flew off the handle. How stupid was I to think Jason would sit around and not look for another woman? The hurt and jealousy was so much more painful than I anticipated, to the point that I was driven to punch Haden after his tactless comment.

Did he have a point though?

No, the Jerk was just clutching onto straws and had no sense of decency. He had it in for me (God knows why) and the bottom line is I have to watch my back. The cunning bastard was probably used to getting his way no matter who he stepped on. Well, take that, dipshit! I doubt he’ll be able to get laid with a face like that, especially when he admits a girl hit him.

Nothing sounds more appealing than a quiet night in, but Vicky rushes over the second I call her to tell her what happened. Before I know it, the bottle of wine is empty, and Vicky will be my savior tonight.