Blame it on the Champagne (Blame it on the Alcohol 1) - Page 97

While I did my best to wipe out the night, I also began concocting a plan to get her back. She just needed time. She had to hear me out. She was my wife.

And I wasn’t ready to let go of that now.

If ever.Thirty-FourVera“Well, look who’s alive. I thought you—”

Raelynn’s words cut off when she fully opened the door to my splotchy face and suitcase.

“What the fuck?” she murmured.

She grabbed my arm and jerked me inside, looking side to side like someone would pop out from around the corner. But by the time she shut the door and faced me, I’d already started crumbling.

“Oh, shit,” she said before tugging me in her arms.

In the comfort of my best friend’s arms, the cracks fissured too big to hold together anymore, and I toppled inch by inch. My shoulders shook with my silent sobs. Then my chest as my quiet sobs became loud cries of pain ripping from deep in my stomach. She held me tight, holding me up when my legs shook.

“Who do I have to kill? I’ll fucking rip them apart piece by fucking piece. Fucking mutilate them.” Her words were meant to be dark and scary, but the way her voice cracked stole her thunder.

She shifted us to the couch, and by the time we sat, she was crying right along with me.

“Vera, baby,” she soothed, rubbing her hands up and down my back. “What happened? God, I can’t stand this. I don’t even know what happened, but god, your pain—I can feel it, and it hurts.”

“I’m so-sorry.”

“Don’t you dare. Give it to me. Let me help you carry this—whatever this is.”

“N-N-Nico,” I choked out. Even thinking his name hurt, but saying it tore another rip in my tattered heart.

She froze but didn’t let go of me. “Did he hurt you?” Her question held more threat than any of her promises to mutilate before. Raelynn’s mother had been abused by her father, and it was a hard line that changed Raelynn from playful to serious in the blink of an eye.

“Not ph-physically.”

Her body expanded in my arms with her deep inhale of relief, and her hand resumed its motion up and down my back.

She let me cry, taking shuddering breaths with me. She rocked us back and forth and shhh’d me like a baby. It made me miss my mom but also filled me with gratitude for such an amazing friend. She was part of our tripod, and right now, she took on more weight when I couldn’t.

When my cries softened, she finally spoke. “Was the sex that bad?”

I choked out a laugh, tears still leaking down my cheeks. God love Raelynn. Only she could ease this ache when we were both crying with a joke.

“Was all the excitement gone because you weren’t at a crowded party, and he wasn’t a stranger?” She mock gasped. “Does he only do missionary with the lights out and under the covers?”

“Oh my god,” I groaned, laughing harder. I pulled back and swiped at my cheeks.

“Say it ain’t so,” she said in a fake southern accent, her hand to her forehead.

“Jesus, Rae.”

She smiled and brushed back the strand of hair clinging to my cheeks. “Let me get us some wine, and then we can talk. What do you think? No glass? Bottle each?”

“Sounds perfect.”

With a smile, she stood up and turned to walk away but came to a screeching halt when the doorknob jiggled frantically, and hard pounding reverberated against the door.

“What the fuck?” she whispered, turning wide eyes to me.

“Does he know where you live?”

“How the fuck should I know?”

We whispered back and forth, not moving a muscle, like maybe if we didn’t move, the person wouldn’t know we were there.

“Open this goddamn door right now or I’ll fucking kick it down. I don’t know how because I’m pretty small, but I’ll do it. I’ll find a way. You bitches let me in.”

Raelynn snapped into action, whipping the door open. “Nova?”

She stormed past, her long red hair flowing behind her like a fiery waterfall. “Yes, fucking Nova. Who did you expect?”

She stood in the open space, looking between mine and Raelynn’s red eyes and splotchy faces.

“What happened?” Sweet Nova stood tall, looking more imposing than Raelynn ever had.

“Damn, Xena the warrior princess,” Raelynn said, looking Nova up and down. “How the hell did you get here so fast? I thought you were out of town. And why are you so dressed up? Are those…heels?”

Nova rolled her eyes and heaved a sigh at Raelynn’s joking, only relaxing the slightest bit from her attack position. “Yes, and I just ran up seven flights of stairs because your elevator is stupid slow. I had a late meeting—”

“A date?” Raelynn asked, gasping in excitement. Nova didn’t really date, and Raelynn constantly harassed her for it.

“A meeting with a publisher from a magazine. I got in this morning, and when I got your message, I bolted, barely giving an excuse before tossing cash at him like a fucking stripper.”

Tags: Fiona Cole Blame it on the Alcohol Romance
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