The Secret Girlfriend's Revenge: No Second Chances

ir

g of silver

blecloth. He sucked in a breath through his teeth, grabbed a napkin, and dabbed at his scalded

at? What does my personal life have

he leaned half over him, blocking me from his view, and when she turned to look at me, her eyes were already wet. "Blair, why are you doing this? If

ou? Everyone knows they're practically together. Why do yo

lair only knows how to be all business. She doesn't g

hovering near Kloe's elbow. "We're leaving first. Kloe needs to review for tomorrow's

, and guided Kloe toward the door, leaning down to murmur somethi

s split the tip among everyone present except me. I paid for my drink in cash,

sat on the couch without even taking off my coa

he foyer, tossed his keys into the ceramic bowl. He smelled of r

owned. "Are you satisfied now? You humiliated me in front of my e

. His knuckles were wrappe

take he

hinking you hated her, thinking you were trying to spread rumors at a work dinn

d in this apartment with you for three years, and

ecial colleague'! It was a workplace joke! You'r

ll them

froze.

tell everyone that you and I have been together for three yea

n and I'm supposed to go announce my private life? Everyone will think I'm targeting her!

about her feeling

e irrational, controlling, and paranoid! I will not let y

slammed the guest bedroom door shut.

living room. My hands didn't

cases from the top shelf. I packed my winter coats, my designer dresses, my shoes, m

ning, laughter drif

e. Kloe stood at the marble island wearing Grayson's favorite Seattle Mariners baseball jersey from hi

e island. Two steaming

sed and in a bad mood last night, so I took the early bus over to make breakfas

son's cheek with a paper towel. He didn't pull away

orange juice from the fridge and set the silver

chen I had designed, the griddle I had paid for, the man w

N

Maya, my former college friend in engineer

. Someone posted this folder on th

folder was titled: "Th

h-resolution photos fr

intimate Italian bistro in Bellevue. That night he'd texted

had acute bronchitis and a fever of nearly 104, alone in this apartment for four

ng mugs, her arms wrapped around his neck. Timestamp: May 14th, 8:15 PM. That same night

d at th

every lonely night of the past three years

the three hundred-plus photos, timestamps, and text screenshots to my private encryp

master bedroom for my purse and car keys, o

We're