“Thank you, I wasn’t quite done bitching yet,” Violet said, pursing her lips. “This brings me to my vajabbies diagnosis. We got the horrible news about the Seaside Inn, and then that wanker ex of yours posted a photo with his new fiancée. Wham, bam, that’s a shit ton of stuff to deal with all at once.”
“Is this supposed to be helpful?”
“Monny, you’ve been broken up for six months, and you have not had sex with anyone since.”
“What are you, keeping track of my sex life?” I rolled my eyes.
“There’s nothing to keep track of. You’re clearly in a dry spell, and your vagina is pissed off and crabby. Which means you suffer from a toxic case of ... vajabbies.”
Blakely used her hand to cover her smile.
“Our business is booming,” I said, “and everyone wants to get married at the Seaside Inn, where freaking Harry and Bailey tied the knot. And now that venue will be gone in one month. I’m trying to reschedule a lot of angry couples at the moment for their upcoming weddings that they thought would be happening there. So yes, I am pissed off and crabby, but it has nothing to do with my vagina.” I stabbed my lettuce like it was a personal offense to me and popped it in my mouth.
The nerve of her to go there with me right now.
“Monny.”
“Vi,” I said, arching a brow. “Do not make this a thing. It’s offensive.”
“Listen, we’re under a lot of stress, trying to find more venue options. I’ve been on the phone all day working on this. But at least ifyou were having sex, it wouldn’t feel like the world was ending. Seeing that Phillip got engaged was the icing on the cake. You’re hurt, but we’re here for you. You know that.”
“I’m not upset about Phillip.” I reached for my water.
I am a little upset about Phillip.
Not because I cared that he was getting married. It just stung a little that he’d moved on so easily. We’d dated back in high school and then broken up when we’d gone to different colleges. After I’d moved back to Blushing to open our business, he and I picked up where we’d left off. It wasn’t magical or that kind of relationship where you get hit with the butterflies—but it was comfortable.
Apparently, I like comfortable.
But Phillip had been traveling to California for work often, and out of nowhere he decided that he no longer wanted to live in Blushing anymore. In fact, he didn’t want to live in Alaska anymore.
I had a business here. One that had just started booming a few months before he’d made this life-changing decision.
I had a life here.
I wasn’t willing to leave. He wasn’t willing to stay.
It was all very amicable six months ago.
And then he moved to California and posted a photo with his new girlfriend, Angel, less than a month after he’d left—a woman who worked at his company, whom he’d mentioned a few times when he’d traveled there.
“I’m having dinner with a few of the guys from the office ... and Angel.”
“I have a coffee meeting with my coworker, Angel.”
“Angel’s fine, but a little annoying. I miss you.”
Fast-forward to last week, when he’d posted engagement photos with Angel.
Six months to the day after we’d broken up.
Clearly she wasn’t as annoying as he’d claimed.
Did I want to marry Phillip?
No. Not anymore, at least. Our relationship had run its course.
But I was hurt that he’d found someone else so quickly and easily, while I’d basically poured myself into work. It also hurt that he was engaged to a woman he’d spent time with while we were together, which made me question if he’d cheated on me during our relationship.
