A Betting Man

Chapter Twenty-Three

Adelaide's Point of View

I have a very restless night. I toss and turn, driving poor Ursula off my bed and out of the room, until I finally give up and take a warm bath. I'm hoping the water will soothe me, but instead it seems to conjure another bout of self-pity until my tears are mixing with the water, the evidence of my sorrow literally all around me.

I haven't felt this bad in... well, I can never remember feeling this bad. Certainly not when Nolan dumped me. No, I had only felt anger then.

But now, with a plan in mind and with the determination to follow through, I don't feel a single bit better about anything. I'm hoping that will change once this is over.

He deserves what's coming to him. Once it's all out in the air – once I've told him how I really feel – things will change.

Please, God. Let it change.

I stay in the bath until the water runs cold. Then I stand, redress, and drink some NyQuil. I oversleep by nearly an hour the following morning, but it doesn't matter – I call out of work sick anyway.

Justin's Point of View

I had planned on staying in Seattle tonight, but suddenly – after being so effectively dismissed by Addie – I don't feel there's any reason to. I have to work early, and it makes more sense to drive back to Olympia tonight.

So, I drive. In silence. And my thoughts race and wander and nearly drive me mad.

I wasn't able to tell Addie everything tonight. Not without blurting it out despite her headache and possibly sending her into shock, at least. But tomorrow is another day – tomorrow it needs to be said, headache or not.

Because Cayden is right, that motherfucker. He may be an idiot ninety-percent of the time, but he knows how to make a relationship work. He always has. And as hard as it is to admit, he's probably right about everything he said.

Because deep down, I agree with him. I know it's right. And I know what I have to do, no matter how hard it is.

Cayden calls me on the ride home, but I ignore it. I don't feel like talking anymore, especially as I have a good idea as to his preferred topic of conversation. He leaves a voice mail, but I don't listen to it either.

It's late when I get home. I strip to my boxers and call Addie, hoping to check up on her and her headache, but she doesn't answer. I assume she's already asleep.

I quickly listen to Cayden's message – he's urging me to call him back, saying he has something really important to say, but I ignore it. Whatever it is can wait.

He sends me a text message.

Where the fuck are you? Call me back. - Cay

I log out and get a brief glimpse of my other messages. I see one from Nolan that I don't recognize and frown.

Why do I get the feeling that you're avoiding my calls? - N

I check the time the message was sent and realize I received it tonight. I don't remember getting it. Could I have accidentally pressed the button in my pocket? That's possible...

I start scrolling through all my messages, on a whim, and cringe at what I see. Some from Lauren and other girls and some from Nolan. I notice the one I sent to Nolan – the one where I claim Addie is still just a bet to me – and I scoff at the absurdity of my lie. That's obviously not true anymore, and the fact that I could try to claim otherwise is just ridiculous.

I don't even like the idea of such a message being on my phone. In a sudden spurt of paranoia, I erase my entire inbox and outbox of text messages.