Contrite ✓

Chapter 31.

On Saturday morning I felt like calling in sick, not in the mood for facing people. The past two nights had been torturous and I'd barely slept at all. I was on the verge of cracking and wanted to talk to Harry. But I still couldn't find a good enough reason to contact him. I hadn't heard from him since last Friday, he kept his word of spending time apart.

What did that even mean? He wanted space. For how long? Did he honestly think I would be there when he felt ready? I wasn't sure I would be strong enough to tell him no if he came crawling back. I loved him. And I had probably done so for a long time.

Forcing myself out of bed, I showered and got dressed. I halfheartedly put on some makeup, but it did nothing to hide my zombie-state.

My phone buzzed suddenly and my heart started beating faster. I picked it up slowly and exhaled when I saw Madeline's name. She suggested we should stay put after work and drink some wine there, instead of going home to one of us.

I told her it sounded like a smart idea and decided to pack my prettiest dress and highest heels. Perhaps it could make me feel slightly better; putting on something nice.

It was going to be long day but at least I had three days off after today. I didn't feel like crying as soon as I thought about Harry any longer, but my heart clenched when I imagined the look on his face as he told me he wanted to put some distance between us.

I drove to work and spent the day with a fake smile on my lips, my head throbbing and Madeline shooting me pitiful looks.

When time finally reached eight and it was time to close, I nearly fainted from fatigue. I locked up and went out back to change into my party outfit. I found Madeline in front of the mirror, cursing as she tried to make the perfect eyeliner wing. "I'm going to kill whoever invented liquid eyeliner!"

"Why don't you just skip it then?" I chuckled.

"Because I never wear makeup! I want to look good tonight, what if I meet someone?" she said.

I huffed. "Good luck with that."

She turned around and gave me a critical look. "What is that supposed to mean? Am I not hot enough?"

"No, it's not that. You look more than hot. But the guys around here are arseholes. And I'm speaking from experience," I said and rolled my eyes.

"Well, preach. But still, what if there's a sexy tourist or an innocent by-passer who wants to hook up?"

"Whatever, Mads. Do you need help?" I gestured to the tiny bottle in her hand.

She nodded and I helped her with the eyeliner before I changed into the snug, white dress with an open back and my ridiculously high hot-pink heels.

Madeline whistled lowly as she eyed me. "Someone's going all in tonight."

I shrugged. "I don't see why not. It's not like I have a boyfriend."

Earlier today I'd told Madeline about everything that went down with Adam and also Harry, not leaving a single detail unsaid. Sharing with her felt good, partially because she was completely objective about it.

She'd told me it sounded like Harry had a crush on me but didn't want or dare to act on it. I told her I highly doubted it, since he behaved like a twat about it.

"So, where do you want to go tonight?" Madeline chirped.

"Um. . . I'm not sure. Not very familiar with the places around, to be honest," I said.

She let out a satisfied shriek. "Does that mean I get to decide?"

"I guess. . . As long as you don't—"