“That’s god-awful.”
“Yup. You got it.”
“So… are you going to call that Rhett guy up and tell him you made a mistake and you’re miserable and tired and moping around and you were scared like everyone is and that you made a mistake and it isn’t actually a vitamin deficiency?”
“Uh- no. No, and that’s the end of it. He’s better off without me. It’s just rubbing salt in his wounds. My sister actually went on her honeymoon that she was supposed to go on with Rhett with the guy she was cheating on him with. That’s the kind of salt I’m talking about. Like not nice table salt. Like road salt. The kind that would burn your limb right off if you rubbed it in a little cut.”
“That’s terrifying. I’ll have to remember that one for future threats. I really do have two little sisters.” Rick winked at her and Bella rolled her eyes again.
“Glad I could be of service. And by the way, none of that made me feel any better.”
Rick shrugged. “No but calling him probably would.”
“Not going to happen. I’ll get over it soon enough. I’m almost there. Just need a few more weeks. And some sun would really help.”
“Don’t try moving on with someone else. That never works.”
“Wasn’t planning on it.” That was the thing. The thing that hurt the most. Like road salt in her wounds. Rhett and his massive schlong and his nice smile and his tender touches and the way he made her feel and the all-around rightness of him that she’d never felt with another person- he’d ruined her. She felt wrecked, even more hopeless for finding someone else than she’d ever been, and god, she had already been pretty hopeless about it all before.
“You never know. He might show up here for another tattoo.” Rick winked at her. “I better get back to work.”
“That’s probably a good idea.”
“The ass kicking still stands if you need it.”
“Thanks,” Bella muttered as she watched Rick turn and walk back to his room. He shut the door behind him, and the shop went back to being silent. Or at least, as silent as it ever was with a bunch of different people in different rooms that weren’t entirely soundproof blasting different versions of hard rock and metal.
She leaned forward in her chair, slammed her elbows up on the desk and tilted her face into her hands. She needed to move on. She would eventually. It always happened. The hurt faded away, replaced with scar tissue. Her walls got a little bit thicker each time they were breached.
It had to happen… eventually.
It just didn’t feel like it at the moment, given that she felt like the wound was still cut open and gaping and she was slowly, so very slowly, bleeding out. She’d get over it. Because she had to. There wasn’t exactly another alternative.
CHAPTER 19
Rhett
Sometimes life was ridiculous.
Okay, sometimes Rhett made it that way. Every single bad thing that had ever happened to him could be traced back to bad decisions somewhere down the line. Or just decisions in general. The shit-storm at the end of the rainbow was usually brought about by general pieces of shit decisions long before that storm. His own version of chaotic weather.
On the other hand, sometimes the worst decisions he made produced the best results. Like dropping out of college when he felt like he couldn’t find what he was looking for. His classes had stifled his creativity. They’d said there was only one way to do something. That was far, far from the truth. He never would have invented half the apps that had taken off if he stayed there. He never would have created his own company and cared so much about making it and proving himself if he’d had a degree to fall back on. If he’d stayed and graduated, he would have ended up working in an office, putting in his nine to five for someone else, slaving away, instead of slaving away for his own ass and his own money and his own fame.
Which turned out to be a double-edged sword, so maybe it was a bad decision with the typical pot of turds at the end of the rainbow after all.
Or maybe it would work out.
Maybe it would work because he’d give it his all and he wouldn’t back down. He’d apply every single creative drop he had into going forward, just like he had with his apps and his software. He’d find his drive again, find that same tenacity, that will to succeed, and he’d push harder than ever.
For Bella.
Because life was one steaming bag of shit without her.
Okay, he’d been using waaaayyy too many shit references in the past few weeks, but life had never required them more. He felt like shit. His days were filled up with bullshit. Everything that used to satisfy him was just shit, shit, shit. Everything went to shit. Shit hit the fan. Life was a shit-storm. He was a piece of shit. Felt like it. Blah, blah, blah, shit, shit, shit.