Page 311 of Forbidden Billionaires: Vol. 7

Fuck my life!I didn’t look at his reaction. I couldn’t. I could never see him again. Not after I’d just Incident #4’d all over him. I turned and ran away.

Stalker Problems - Chapter 32 - An Unexpected Guest

Saturday – April 15, 2023

It was official. I was never leaving the house again. No matter what I did, tears were still slowly falling down my face. I tried to brush them away to no avail.

And it wasn’t about Joe. Yes, that four years shit stung really badly. But I already hated him. I was crying because I was a menace to society, and society was a menace to me. It was better if we were kept apart.

All I needed was pajamas, ice cream, and TV. And a thorough mouth cleaning to get rid of the taste of vomit. If only I could clean my mind too. I searched Google Maps for elective lobotomy clinics, but there were none nearby.Come on, New York. 8.6 million people, and not a single one was licensed to stick a metal rod in my brain to destroy all my awful memories? Lame.

I pulled on my snuggliest pajamas and opened the fridge, but I was fresh out of ice cream.

Are you freaking kidding me, Universe?I wanted to scream. This was officially the worst day of my life.

Sure, Chastity would happily bring me ice cream if I called her, but then she’d want to know what had happened after I ran out of the restaurant. And I wasn’t ready to relive it yet. Telling someone about it would make it too real. None of it matteredanyway. I’d dehydrate myself soon with all my crying. And then I could just die in a puddle of my own tears. Only an ironic death made sense for a fool like me.

My bottom lip started trembling.

God! Stop!

I tried to take a deep breath. No, I didn’t need Chastity. Or ice cream. All I needed was to curl up with an episode of my newest obsession: Gossip Girl. I just HAD to know who Gossip Girl was. Was it Serena? Or Blair? Pssh, no. Those were too obvious. It was definitely Chuck.

But tonight, not even Gossip Girl could distract me from the horrors I’d endured. I just sat there staring at the TV screen. I couldn’t pay attention. My mind just kept playing reruns of Joe’s proposal and my subsequent barf explosion.

I wonder if they announced their engagement on Instagram yet.I knew I shouldn’t look. But I was too curious. I resisted for a full half-episode, but eventually I lost control and opened Sierra’s Instagram. There was a new picture from 58 minutes ago. Sierra and Joe were sitting in the restaurant, happy as can be, with Sierra showing off her engagement ring. Which was FREAKING HUGE. I didn’t know much about diamonds, but that thing had to be like two carats. Maybe 3. It wouldn’t have been out of place on a Kardashian’s finger. Which made it about 1,000 times bigger than the ring Joe had given me.

What really pissed me off, though, was that I knew he had bought it with the money that I had helped him make. The money he had stolen from me in the divorce.

Scrolling through the comments didn’t make me feel any better.

“You look stunning!”

“Luckiest man alive.”

“THAT RING!”

“Congrats to the happy couple! Wishing you two so much happiness.”

The compliments went on and on. All 1046 of her comments said something nice, although half of them were just creepy dudes complimenting her tits or sending eggplant emojis.

Why did none of those people comment on the fact that Joe had been married just a couple weeks ago and basically admitted during his proposal that he’d been a dirty cheater for four freaking years?

My phone started ringing and Chastity’s name flashed across the screen.

“What?” I croaked.

“Girl, are you okay? You sprinted out of there so fast. I was going to run after you but Madison picked up a butter knife and was threatening to cut off Joe’s dick. I had to stop her.”

Wow. That was…a lot.“Did she succeed?”

Chastity laughed. “No. But you should have seen it. I almost had to tackle her.”

I would have laughed if I didn’t feel like dying.

“Do you want me to come over?” she asked.

This was my opportunity for ice cream. But I needed to be in solitude for a while. Back to my vow of reclusivity. It was for the best. “No. I’m just going to head to bed early.”