Drop Dead Gorgeous(119)
Finished, I begin to rise from my chair, but Colin grabs my arm, holding me in place, his jaw slack in surprise.
One of the women watching suddenly decides that’s her cue and claps her hands sharply, interrupting our scene with one of her own. “Boy, you’d best let that girl’s arm go. You had your moment, and a queen like that is better off without a twat-stain like you.”
Several people gasp at her language and volume, but Archie has me corrupted to not even blink at that level of crudeness. Thankful for the support, I look over to her and offer a weak smile of appreciation. For his part, Colin scowls but loosens his grip. Still, he’s not done.
“Wait a minute now, Vi. You’re not even going to try to talk about this? After all we’ve been through?” His voice has an almost whine to it, confirming what I expected.
He wanted me to break down and beg him not to leave me.
In front of a fucking audience.
Like he’s some golden goose prize that I would debase myself to possess.
Well, he can kick rocks.
I won’t give him the satisfaction of a show.
I shrug nonchalantly. “Nope.”
“Look, Vi, I know how much our getting married means to you. I get it, you’re pissed and upset. I would be too, but can we please not end things on bad terms? You don’t have to act this way—”
“We’re fine,” I say, disengaging my arm from his grasp and rising to my feet. “Besides, you’re right. It’s probably for the best.”
Colin’s lips work for several seconds, at a loss for words. Like he can’t believe this didn’t turn out how he expected, me in a crying puddle at his feet.
He clenches his jaw, showing that he’s actually getting angry. “Violet—”
“’Bye, Colin.”
Ruffled, Colin straightens his collar and clears his throat, trying one last tactic, gesturing at my half-eaten food. “Will you just sit down and finish the bagel, at least?”
Turning away, I toss over my shoulder, just as casually as he tossed away our relationship, “No time. I gotta go to work . . . and do that ‘decorating thing’.”
My single cheerleader stands up, her arm circling in rally. “That’s right, girl. Strut it out of here and own the world.” She sneers at Colin, more emotionally invested in this than even I am, and isn’t that pitiful?
She’s my only supporter, though. Every other woman in here is judging me as unworthy of keeping Colin. All they see is a handsome guy in a suit with a flashy diamond ring . . . back on the market.
I imagine Colin will be collecting numbers by the stacks before he even walks out of the coffee shop.
Well, they can have him.
I get into the cab and far down the block before the tears come. Not for Colin, not for the decimation of our relationship, but for Papa and for the little girl I once was, and still am to some degree, who wants to make her grandfather happy.
Read the entire book here. Or search My Big Fat Fake Wedding on Amazon.