The Wine's Divine | Complete

I

"How could he be so stupid?" The question young girls and women all around the world had asked for centuries. Yet, it was the only question Ember Michaelson could think to ask as she retold her story of heartbreak to her best friend, Bel.

Ember had been waiting her entire life for the one, and when she'd met Tyler Finn in her freshman year at the university, she'd thought she'd found him. Five-foot ten—and a half— deep brown eyes that matched his hair, chocolate skin, full lips, and shoulders like a linebacker. But, it wasn't all about looks for Ember, it was also brains, and as of 3:59 pm yesterday, it was clear to her he didn't have any.

"I can't believe he thought a box of chocolates was a worthy apology." Bel shook her head, the scissors in her hand biting into another photograph of Tyler and Ember. She'd removed his smiling head from six so far.

"Not to mention he'd already eaten half of them," Ember wiped at the tears threatening to leap from her lower eyelids. Tyler had betrayed her in the worst way possible, and not just by eating his apology chocolates, which was a sin all on its own. No, he'd cheated, and not just with a random girl, he'd cheated with the Dean's daughter. Miranda Milton, brunette southern belle with a refined taste for football players. It made sense, of course, Miranda had been the head cheerleader at the university for two years now, and even though Tyler interacted with her regularly, Ember had thought he was a loyal boyfriend.

"Didn't he leave a few things here?" Bel asked, her face scrunched in concentration as she navigated her scissors through an eighth picture.

"Some shirts and a hoodie, I think."

"Let's burn 'em!"

When Ember didn't reply Bel dropped her hands into her lap, exasperated, "It'll get rid of his energy, you know - smoke him out like the foul demon he is."

Her best friend meant well, coming over the minute Ember had texted her the news, bringing a gallon of ice cream and murderous rage. But, it didn't alleviate the pain, there was no amount of ice cream that could help her cope with losing him. It'd been two years since she'd set eyes on him and the daydreaming had started almost instantly. First, it was just his name scribbled into her notebooks during class, then it was the thoughts of what their kids would look like. Then the wedding, the honeymoon, and their first time having sex. But, none of that happened, and now he was gone.

Bel had resumed her surgery on Tyler's face, her tongue clamped between her teeth, a look of utter hatred sparkling in her blue eyes. Ember couldn't take it anymore. Sitting in her room only reminded her of him.

"I don't want to think about him or any other man for the rest of my life."

"Of course, you feel that way now but..."

"No, I'm serious, I'm done with it. I never want anyone to have control over my emotions again. From here on out, love is banned."

"You can't ban love, you're still young." Bel's laugh faltered as she caught the serious look on Ember's face. "Okay, okay, love is banned."

"Good, now let's go to the boardwalk."

"The boardwalk?" Bel's eyebrow arched, her fingers gripping the end of the picture in her hands and tearing it in two, "Yeah, the boardwalk," she agreed, "our old stomping ground is exactly what we need."

•---•---•

An hour later, the girls strode down the Daytona Beach boardwalk in similar outfits of denim shorts, tank tops, and sandals. Ember's brown hair, highlighted in deep hues of red beneath the afternoon sun was plaited and draped over her shoulder. She held a hand over her eyes as she squinted out across the Atlantic, kicking herself for forgetting her sunglasses.

It was a sweltering Thursday afternoon in the middle of July, a heat so stifling it made her second guess her decision to leave the air-conditioned house, but it hadn't stopped the tourists from crowding the beach.

Jet skis, sailboats, and even a distant cruise liner rode over the choppy waves. The water rose high in white-trimmed arches and crashed onto the shoreline where families laughed and fell over into the wet sand. She got the sudden urge to rent a boat, maybe even steal one, and sail away. Escape the east coast and start a new life in a foreign country where no one knew how much of an ass she'd been for trusting Tyler Finn.

She turned away. Running was never the answer. Maybe the answer was revenge. But what sort of revenge could you hope to achieve against a disloyal, chocolate-eating jock with the intelligence of a ten-year-old and the conscience of a sociopath? She searched the boardwalk for anything that would take her mind off of him until her eyes locked onto an enormous Ferris wheel. It rotated lazily, carrying buckets full of people up into the sky where the sun could lick and kiss their salty skin, and then right back down before it could roast them like meat on a spit.

"Avert thy eyes, Ember Michaelson," Bel snorted. "You're out of your mind if you think I'm getting on that thing, it's as old as Mick Jagger and as gross as a women's public bathroom."

"What about more ice cream?" Ember asked, sweat rolling down the back of her neck. "Or maybe an ice bath?"

"I'd buy a ticket to Antarctica if I thought I'd get a wifi signal," Bel said, fanning herself uselessly with her hands. And then as if a bolt of lightning had struck her brain, her eyes bulged over Ember's shoulder.