They set down the boxes they’re already holding before making a few more trips back out to a cart that they used to haul them over. They refuse to let me help, so I hold the door and watch in silence.
“Thank you so much,” I tell them when they’re all done.
“Cora wanted us to let you know that dinner will be in an hour if you’d care to join them at the main house,” Jackie informs me.
“Can you let her know I’m actually really tired and have a bit of a headache so I’m going to lie down?” I hate to turn down Cora’s invite with all she’s done, but I don’t think I can handle seeing Cillian right now.
“Of course.” Jackie nods. “Is there anything else we can do for you?”
“You’ve done more than enough. Thank you for bringing this all here for me.”
“You’re welcome,” she says before heading out and leaving me alone in the cottage.
“I will not cry,” I tell myself as I make my way into the kitchen, where I find a pint of ice cream and a bottle of cold white wine. I pour a glass, and when I take a small sip, I’m surprised it’s not bad. I’ve never been a big drinker because the taste always grossed me out. This is actually sweet and goes nicely with my ice cream.
My eyes drift over to the boxes, and before I know it, I’ve eaten half of the ice cream, drunk a few glasses of wine, and now have all the pretty panties and bras out of the boxes.
“Fashion show,” I declare to myself as I pour another glass of wine, then dig my phone out of the couch. I have to pull the cushions off to find it, but eventually I’m successful.
I take a picture of myself in each set of matching panties and bras in the full-length mirror in the bedroom. That way I can scroll through them all at once to see which are my favorites. When I’m done, I leave the last one on and drop back onto the bed.
Looking through the pictures, I actually love them all. Too bad no one will ever get to see me wearing such beautiful things. I don’t know if it’s the wine or the sugar rush, but my parents can shove it. I’m not going to marry anyone. I’m over all of this bullshit.
As always, my mind drifts to Cillian, and I wonder what he’s doing. Maybe he’s talking to one of those sweet girls who brought me the boxes. I bet he doesn’t see them as sisterly.
I flip through the pictures again, this time thinking it would be so easy to just send one to Cillian. Too bad he doesn’t want one.
I toss my phone to the other side of the bed and grab my Kindle. I’ll get lost in a love story that won’t break my heart and always has a happily ever after.