Page 175 of Love Arranged

Fracking bracelet.

Tracking bracelet.

I think I’m drunk.

I grab a throw blanket and tightly wrap it around myself while I mentally count my breaths. The urge to lash out is strong, but I hold off because I’d rather explore my emotionsthan unleash them.

There are multiple reasons for me to be upset over Lorenzo’s texts, but most of all, I’m mad at myself for caring about him despite the reasons I shouldn’t.

I don’t like to see anyone hurting, regardless of whether they brought it upon themselves or not, but somehow witnessing Lorenzo’s pain is infinitely worse.

He put us in this position.

He is making us both suffer over his stubbornness.

Over hispride.

Lorenzo

Will you come over and hold my hair back?

Please.

Another message comes through ten minutes later.

Lorenzo

I don’t feel so good.

Question: Does heartache get worse overnight?

Stubborn tears prick my eyes, but I blink them away because Lorenzo doesn’t get to make me cry. Not anymore.

I lock my phone and stare at the artificial flowers hanging from my ceiling until my vision is no longer blurry.

Does heartache get worse overnight?he asked.

I’m bitter enough to wish mine does, that way I’ll have a physical reminder of what happens when you fall in love with thewrong person.

I’m so miserable after last night, I end up asking Jane to cover my shift at the shop. I can’t risk running into Lorenzo, who always picks up his two bouquets on Friday, so I spend my day working on a pressed-flower piece in the garage.

The bride has already messaged me once, asking how it was coming along, so I need to wrap it up before she gets annoyed at the wait time. Plus the work helps keep my mind occupied for a few hours, which is much needed after last night.

I don’t expect Lorenzo to show up at my house later in the day, so I’m surprised to see him standing outside my garage, looking like he was run over by an eighteen-wheeler.

If I hadn’t known he got drunk last night, the evidence would’ve been hard to miss today.

“Hey.” He waves, and the easygoing greeting instantly pisses me off.

I walk out of the garage and yank the mask off my face. “What are you doing here?”

He tucks his hands into his pockets. “Jane said you weren’t feeling well.”

“So?”

“So, I wanted to make sure my fiancée was okay.”

My eye twitches at my least favoriteF-word. “Are you concerned I’ll cancel on tomorrow’s outing?”