Saturday Night, August 5th
I look around the room with a sinking feeling in my stomach. Which is odd…because I'm sure I need to throw up.
One…
Two…
Three…
Four…
Five…
Yep, five women (not including the drunk whore in the front holding the microphone) are holding up their hands. Oh, and not to mention the blond man at the bar who is so pretty he could be a woman.
"Shut the fuck up, Jasper," Edward yells over the microphone. "You never fucked me."
Dying.
I'm pretty sure I'm dying right now. So, this is what death feels like? Massive embarrassment, followed by complete and utter humiliation. I try to get off the bar stool, so I can dramatically run out of the bar. Dramatically, because how else am I supposed to end this fiasco?
I can't even do that right, though. My heel catches on the bar of the stool and I tumble gracelessly to the floor. Grabbing my purse and what's left of my dignity, (which, as it turns out, is about the size of a lighter) I stand up on shaking legs and run to the door.
"Bella, wait," he calls out. "Please."
And even though it makes me hate myself a little more, I stop. Turning around with a fury I didn't know I possessed, I scream. Or cry. You know, whatever.
"Six women? You fucked six women? In this room?"
Everyone's staring. And why wouldn't they be? This is some sort of Jerry Springer nightmare. I can't even fathom what's happening. I can't piece it all together in my mind. All I know is the man I have been consumed with is a bigger whore than the bitch with the microphone. And what seemed so special to me, was obviously not as special to him.
I was just another girl.
What did you expect, Bella?
He didn't learn to fuck like that from masturbating.
"It's not what it seems like," he says. "Please…you have to let me explain."
He moves to make his way toward me, but I don't think I can handle that. In fact, I know I can't. Not here…not ever.
"No," I say firmly. Well, my voice is actually quivering, but it's still pretty fucking strong. "You don't get to explain this to me. And don't you dare come trying to explain to me later."
"Bella," his voice sounds as defeated as he looks, but I don't care. Not now. Not after all of this.
"Six women, Edward! Six fucking women!"
And with that, I push the door open and walk away from the bar.
Away from Edward Cullen.
.
.
.
A/N
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See you all shortly!