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Page 12 of Just Desserts (Holland Springs 4)

Hurt raked through her. How could he do this? How could he have led her on? Oh, she knew how, because she had let him.

“Get out of my house.”

He blinked at her. “Right this minute?”

“You said it yourself—a clean break is what’s best for both of us. So why draw it out, Glen? Get your crap and leave,” she said, proud that her voice didn’t waver. No matter what, she would be strong.

“Fine,” he snapped, marching out of the room.

While he packed, she paced the kitchen and began to pull out the items she needed to bake…something. By the time she had out everything but the milk and butter, Glen was back, one large suitcase in each hand and Cici on his heels.

“Where am I supposed to go?” he asked.

She set the whisk in her hand down on the counter, more for his safety than hers. “Try Gina’s. I’m sure she could counsel you on what to do next.”

He glanced away from her. “She still lives with her ex.”

Daisy snorted. “You both are idiots.”

“Yeah, well, you suck in bed,” Glen snapped.

“That’s entirely your fault, since you’re the only guy I’ve ever slept with,” she replied sweetly. “Maybe Gina will teach you something new, since I’m the only woman you’ve ever slept with.” A fact that had thrilled Daisy to no end. Maybe she could hold on to that memory of him.

“You’re not the only woman,” he mumbled, his cheeks heating.

“What?” She could barely choke out the word.

“Gina and I, after we broke up…we—”

“She’s the reason why we haven’t had sex in the past two and a half months?”

His gaze flew to hers. “You’ve been counting the days?”

She stared back at him, more stupefied than ever. “Just get out, Glen.”

“God, you’re a bitch when you want to be.” He turned and Cici followed, wagging her tail. It was at that moment Daisy noticed the leash.

“Not Cici,” Daisy cried, trying to grab the leash, but Glen simply blocked her body with his and her hands fell helplessly to her sides.

“She likes me better, and you know it,” Glen said.

Daisy did know it, but it still hurt for him to say the words. “But she’s our dog.”

“Not anymore,” he said. “Let’s go, Cici.” The dog only whined once and then followed Glen out the door, her little stump of a tail wagging happily.

Daisy managed to keep it together. She didn’t utter a sound as the door shut, or as she heard the car start up and back down her driveway. But as soon as she heard him hit the gas, she sank to the floor in a crumpled heap and cried her eyes out.

Why hadn’t she stood up to him? Why hadn’t she refused to let Cici go?

Because Glen would more than likely grow tired of caring for Cici, like he had before, and he’d call Daisy to come get her, the rational part of her brain reminded her. All Daisy would have to do is be patient.

“I can be patient and strong,” Daisy whispered.

Refusing to cry any more tears over that asshat, she scrubbed her tears away and stood, marching to her bedroom. She grabbed her laptop and plopped down on the bed, messaging the first person that came to mind.

This time, it wasn’t Isabella, her best friend since first grade. It wasn’t Haven, who’d been her other best friend since ninth grade.

Daisy: Jules! I need you. Please!

Oh God. Why had she done that? Feeling foolish, she moved the mouse to delete and—

Jules: I’m here, darling.

Her hands froze for a moment, and then she began to type. Her hands shook so much that her sentences ran together in places, but she didn’t care. She had to get everything out.

Daisy: Glen just broke up with me. I told him to get out. He took my dogandhesinolvewithanother woman. Hecheated on me withsomewoman named Gina! He doesn’t love me except as a FRIEND. Cici left me too. He took my DOG with him.

Jules: I’ll hunt the bastard down, cut off his testicles, and make him eat them.

She half laugh-half sobbed at his reply.

Jules: I’m not joking, love. Say the word and it shall be done.

Daisy: Thank you, but I’d rather you stay out of jail. I could use a shoulder to cry on though.

Jules: I can be there by seven AM your time.

Daisy: Six fifty-five. Tell the pilot to fly faster.

Jules: If you give me a minute, I’ll arrange it. What are your favorite breakfast foods?

Daisy: Everything is my favorite food. I love to eat.

Jules: I’d love to feed you. Honestly, I only want you to feel better.

Daisy: You don’t have time to listen. It’s late and I have to talk things out. I’ll—

Jules: Time is all I really have, and it’s all yours. I guess you can say that my time belongs to you.

From that point on, she shared everything that had ever mattered to her with Jules. Her dad’s death in Afghanistan when she was barely three, her mother’s death from cancer four years ago, the insurance bills that still cropped up every so often she had to pay, and how damn alone she’d felt afterwards, even with her best friends, Isabella, Haven, and Glen being there for her every step of the way. Which was why his betrayal hurt so bad. Glen had been her best friend. Her everything that Isabella and Haven couldn’t be.

Daisy: The worst part is that I think Glen was right. We really did love each other as friends…only friends don’t do that, you know. They don’t betray you like that.

Jules: Do you want to salvage your friendship with Glen?

Daisy thought she’d need time to think it over—time to weigh the pros and cons, but she didn’t. Her fingers did the deciding for her.

Daisy: HELL NO!

Jules: Then it’s settled. Concentrate on making new friends.

Daisy: Like you?

Jules: I thought we were already were friends.

Daisy: The very best.

The sky started to lighten, and she blinked her sleepy eyes. They felt dry, scratchy, and raw, just like the rest of her.

Daisy: Are you almost here? I don’t think I can stay awake any longer and you have to be exhausted.

Jules: Don’t fall asleep on me now. My shoulder is ready for you. Ah, there is your driveway.

She smiled.

The sound of tires rolling over gravel made her blink. She was hearing things. She glanced at the clock. 6:55 on the dot.

Daisy: lol. My mind is playing tricks on me. I swear it sounded like a car just drove up. I have to go to bed now. Besides, isn’t your virtual shoulder wet from all my virtual tears?

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