Em headed to the door fast and smiled as she flung it open. "Let's stop in my room first.I want to change into a nice pair of jeans in case there is a hot guy for me. You're clearly off the markettonight."
This was a dress she had worn to be with Peter. Perhaps her friend was right that she should put on a pair of jeans and her tee shirt. She rushed upstairs and stared at her mother's picture on herbedside.
"I'll meet you there then in fiveminutes."
"We havea plan." Em walked to the door and letherselfout.
The music blaredas Belle made her way through throngs of people who sat around and drank. The dance floor under the moon played heavy samba music, and a few of the couples seemed deep into each other. She imagined how Peter might hold her as they made their way across the floor in this dance where hands and bodies moved in fluidmotion.
She swallowed and turned away. She saw Em sitting at one of the tables to the side where there were less people. Belle nodded, wiped her hands on her jeans and maneuvered through thecrowd.
As she neared the table, someone spilled red wine on her white tee shirt. She wouldn't stay out now. The man apologized, and Bellewalkedaway.
She stood and showed Em the shirt.Em pointed to sit anyhow. Belle sank into the metal seat, so she'd not ruin any white cushions. Em pushed a drinktowardher.
Belle stared at it. "I should gochange."
"You're not looking for a man," Em said. "I say beep it and you drink your drink while you blast off all the reasons you hate Peter, and yet you want to go backtohim."
Belle didn't touch the drink and lickedher lips. "I do want to talk aboutPeter."
Em again reached across the table and pushed the wine glass into her hand. "So ignore the world and tell me. I won't judge, though I did find myself actually approving of Mr. Monopoly for that microsecondwemet."
"Don't call him that, though I shouldn't bedefendinghim."
If Peter were here, she'd be tempted to tell him to forgeteverything she had said. But part of her still felt as if a knife was slicing into her heart, and the pain was intense. She gulped her drink and thenwinced.
"I don't know what I wanttodo."
Em clinked her glass with Belle's and then sipped hers. "You know exactly what you want, but the problem is you don't want to admit it toyourselfyet."
Right now she didn't have to doanything but hope this wound inside her healed. She sipped and finished her glass. "Is it wrong of me to want a guy who is interestedinme?"
"No." Em refilled the bottle without waiting for the staff. "How did this whole bet thing start? How did youfindout?"
Belle held the glass in her hand, but then saw how everyone on the dance floor moved in every direction as the music blaredin hereardrums.
"Jennifertoldme."
"The ex-girlfriend?"
"Thesame."
Em scooted closer and sipped hers, "And youbelieveher?"
Belle shook her head no. She'd never forget PeterMorgan.
She clutched the drink and said, "I shouldn't, but I asked Peter, and he admitted that he made a bet to date me before I even walked in the door of theparty."
"Headmittedit?"
"Actually I knew before Jennifer told me, and didn't ask him about it the first time. It wasn't until Jennifer told me to my face and it felt like derision that I got thisupset."
Em clinked her glass again, and Belle tried to block her thoughts of Peter as Em said, "So you are giving Mr. Monopoly to his ex-girlfriend practically wrapped with a bow on his foreheadand a tag that reads ‘he’s yours’, without asking yourself if you can let thisallgo?"
"I can't let him go." Belle gulped her wine. "But Peter has so much on his platealready."
Em sat in her chair. She sipped her drink. "His mother returned. You stood at his side, and you both seemed happyearlier."
Belle massaged her temples. Everything started to slow down. "I was, butI don't like being used. Once I give in, then it's a lifetime of giving in and beingignored."
Em placed her hand on her back. "Why in the world would thathappen?"
"It's how my stepmother and father's entire relationship worksthesedays."
"First they are your parents, so they are old fashioned, and second, forgiveness is not about giving in. It's about accepting you're humanswho makemistakes."
She was probably right. "I should go findPeter."
She stood. She should have asked for details sooner. She was throwing away her chance, and she refused to continue on this path. Hopefully, Peter wouldforgiveher.
