Page 144 of The Billionaire's Christmas Bride

"Good."

"I should have told him to fuck off more."

"You still can."

"And he doesn’t love me."

Isla stares at me, "Did you tell him that you love him?"

"No, of course not."

"Then how can you expect him to reciprocate?"

"Whose side are you on?" I scowl.

"Sweetie, you know I’ll always back you up. And I am not saying there is no fault on his side, or that it wasn’t wrong of him to have turned your relationship into a barter game of sorts…but—"

"But?"

"It seems there’s something between the two of you that’s powerful, and if I were in your shoes…"

I tilt my head, "You would…?"

She draws in a breath, "I wouldn’t let go of a chance at true happiness that easily. I mean, I’d pursue that guy and sit on him, until he confessed his feelings."

"You would too," I giggle.

"Not that I’ve been in your shoes."

"Not yet," I smirk.

"Not that I don’t want a man or anything…but…"

"But?"

"I’m not in a hurry. The single life’s pretty fun too, you know? And as long as I have my book boyfriends..."

"That’s what I used to think." I purse my lips, "Then that real life a-hole comes along, and damn, if he doesn’t spoil all the book Romeos for me."

"Aww sweetie," she murmurs, "what are you doing there all alone? Why don’t you come over to my place?"

I pause.

"I mean, I am only an hour away, if you drive."

"I left my car back at the cabin." Hell, I knew I should have asked the driver to drop me off at the cabin and driven myself here… But yeah, the stupid champagne had gone to my head by then, and I had alternated between giggling and crying.Why do I always make the wrong decisions, huh?

"You could call for a taxi?"

The thought of dragging myself out of here and getting dressed and facing her family— Not that I don’t like Isla’s parents. They’re awesome, actually. But to have to put on a face to the world, right now? Nah, no way. I’d rather spend the time baking, and if I happen to eat a lot of what I make? Well, too bad. Life is short, after all. And stressed spelled backwards is desserts, and Mary had a little lamb and the mouse ran up the clock.Shit, time out. Stop with the nursery rhymes. Stop thinking about anything to do with that asshole, okay?

"It’s fine." I swallow, "I think I’m better off on my own."

"You sure?" She frowns.

"Yeah," I nod. "I’ll have a bath and then bake, and I’ll feel better then, for sure."

"I don’t think you should be on your own now."