Page 118 of Running from Drac

It left the minute Pippa told me about their secret romance. People talk about how when you break up with someone you fall apart. I get that now. My whole world has unraveled around me, everything from the last five years replaying in my mind as if I’m watching some fucked up movie and I missed an important part.

I try to think back if there ever was a clue, anytime where I may have noticed Pippa and Eddie’s secret relationship, but there’s nothing. Pippa spent so much time acting as if she hated him, pretending they weren’t close any more because she didn’t want to ruin our relationship. It was all lies! Bullshit and lies!

The worst part is as much as I want to hate Eddie, I just can’t. Half of it wasn’t even his fault. Pippa planned the wholething from the beginning, and it was because of her that he cheated on me with Jinafer.

Mostly, I’m just hurt; destroyed by two people who I loved so much. Would it be different if I knew the secret sooner? Would I have still agreed to marry Eddie? Knowing that I just walked out on my fiancée, and a friendship I’ve had since middle school, I know there is no way I can go home tonight. I don’t want to face anyone. Not my mom. Not Pippa or Poppy, but most of all, I can’t face Eddie. I know if I go home, I’ll forgive him, and right now I just don’t think my heart can take seeing him again. I need to get away from here—away from anything and everything that reminds me of Eddie.

My back pocket starts to burn, inside is the key to it all. A key that can help me forget everything about this night.

But the real question is… do I want to use it?

Chapter Thirty

Eddie

My whole world fucking implodes in one fucking second, all because I was too proud and stupid to tell her the truth when it mattered the most.

“You’re stupid, Eddie. Fucking goddamn stupid.”

“It’s gonna be alright, Eddie,” my dad encourages, his voice low and steady like he’s trying to soothe a wounded animal. But nothing is going to make this right. Nothing.

“She’s gone, Dad.” There’s no masking the utter devastation in my voice. Between the periodic shudders of me desperately trying to catch my breath, and the guilt eating me alive, even a blind man could see my pain.

Rich’s on my other side, his hand thudding against my back like it might shake the grief loose. Mom keeps coming over, wrapping me in these long, lingering hugs like maybe she can keep me from falling apart completely.

My hands clutch tighter around a scrap of her wedding dress, the fabric warm in my hand from how long I’d been gripping it. It’s all I have left of her.

It’s been two fucking hours.

She won’t answer my calls.

She won’t even look at my texts.

It’s as if she’s disappeared like a ghost…

The silence is unbearable. Every sound in the room is like a knife in my back. The clock ticks down every minute since I lost her. My mother silently sobs in the corner, mourning my relationship as much as I am, hating how her son is unraveling like a loose piece of rope she can’t knot and tether.

My dad’s quiet breathing fills the empty space as he does his best not to say something that will make me snap. And then there’s Rich, always so quiet and methodical. The bastard keeps shifting in his chair, shooting me pathetic looks of sympathy that slice me in two. None of them knows what to say, and every sound feels deafening, like at any moment the bomb will go off and all of this will end.

“She’s not coming back, is she?” The words slip out before I can stop them.

Mom flinches like I just slapped her. “Don’t talk like that, honey. You don’t know.”

I nod, but it’s a lie. I do know.

“Your cards predicted it…”

“The cards can sometimes be wrong—”

Cutting her off, my tone intensifies. “But they weren’t, were they, Mom? They said this would happen. They said my relationship was going to collapse, and it did. Just like you predicted. Everything you said came true.”

A single tear slips from my eye, and I angrily wipe it away, wishing people weren’t here to witness my downfall.

“I’m just saying, they also predicted you’d get back together—”

“And break up again. So when is it, Mom? When does the cards say I’ll get back together with her?”

She reluctantly pulls out her deck, hands shaking, her emotions more evident than mine. She shuffles three times, knocks on the deck, fans the cards in front of her face down, and closes her eyes, hands hovering over the spread deck she placed in front of her. It slightly trembles over a certain spot, and she pulls out a single card, eyes widening in shock.