Part 1

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If you could go back in time, at least a day earlier, you would probably tell yourself to never accept Nicky's offer to go to Vegas, get drunk and forget all about the fucker named Chase

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If you could go back in time, at least a day earlier, you would probably tell yourself to never accept Nicky's offer to go to Vegas, get drunk and forget all about the fucker named Chase. If your head wasn't pounding now, you would let out a chuckle at her newest nickname for your... well, ex boyfriend. You couldn't deny how true it was. After 6 years of being together and almost a whole year of being engaged to him, he decided to bring another girl into your shared home and fuck her in your, also shared, bed.

You couldn't get the image of the brunette riding him, while he was moaning her name. You couldn't even remember her name clearly now, but the image was imprinted in your brain. You got your revenge after, of course. You couldn't help it after you saw his favorite black Lamborghini parked right in front of your home. You would also never get the image out of your brain (and the sound) of your car keys scratching the whole driver's side of his car, while he rushed outside in only his boxers.

But, it didn't seem enough to you.

So, you may have possibly wrote 'man whore' on his car window in the brightest red lipstick you had with you.

As your best friend, Nicky could see you were sad, but she knew you prefered to not show your emotions. If she didn't really know you, she would have no idea of what happened to you. When she offered to help you forget about him, you accepted. You trusted she, as a woman who got divorced twice by the age of 32, knew how to get over a man.

Well, that plan took a bad turn.

That morning, you were woken up by the sound of your phone ringing. You groaned, feeling like you were, to put it shortly, ran over by a truck. At least twice. Your hands found the phone on the nightstand. You fought the urge to slam the phone against the wall and make it stop ringing forever, but you weren't letting your intrusive thoughts win. Not this early in the morning, at least. You put the phone against your ear, turning on your back. "Hello?"

"WHAT THE HELL?" You heard the voice of your PR, Sofia, yelling at you.

"Good morning to you too, my love."You mumbled out sarcastically.

"Where the hell are you, Y/N?" She asked, making your eyebrows furrow. Your eyes were still closed, hoping to go back to sleep as soon as she's done yelling at you for whatever you did (or didn't do) today.

"I don't know. In Vegas?" You asked, unsure.

"Well, congratulations on the wedding!" You could hear the anger in her voice. "And thank you for making my job harder!"

"What wedding?" You mumbled out.

"I was hoping you could tell me. Please, for the love of God, tell me you didn't go and marry Tony Stark."

"Who is that? What are you talking about?" You sat up without realizing you were naked, as the sheet fell from the top of your body, exposing it completely.

"Well, that's a sight to wake up to!"You heard a male voice coming from next to you. You almost screamed, turning to face the man. To be honest, you couldn't say you were disappointed with the sight of a hot man laying in your bed, shirtless, only a thin sheet covering his lower half.

Your hands were shaking by now and you pulled the sheet up to cover yourself. You caught a quick glance of the ring on his finger, and almost a matching one on yours. As you looked around the room, you could see the empty champagne bottles on the table. On the floor, there were piles of clothes. You recognized pieces of a male suit, and a white wedding dress on one side, while your matching underwear laid on the other side, along with a pair of high heels.

"You still there?" Sofia asked, making you gulp.

"I-I did something bad. I'll call you later." You mumbled out and ended the call quickly.

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