Loving Dean (Mafia Generations Book 3)

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Loving Dean (Mafia Generations Book 3) Page 9

by Roxanne Greening


  The thought of working with children in a few weeks brought a smile to my face. Their little hands and sweet faces were always excited over the simplest of things.

  Stella: Tell him to fuck off!

  Me: God, I hate this shit.

  Could it get any worse? Then I remembered, I needed to go to our apartment and clear out my shit. Jack and I moved in together two years into our relationship. Neither of us wanted to live in the dorms.

  He hated, and I guess pretended to respect, my no sex until marriage rule. Looking back, I think I just didn’t want him to be my first.

  Stella: You’re a hot babe. You’ll find someone, and Jack will be the man you never remember. Maybe you’ll get lucky and find someone tonight.

  Me: Yeah sure, Mr. Right is just going to come waltzing along and save me from the big bad wolf.

  Stella: One can dream, babe! Maybe we’ll find us a set of brothers….

  Me: You are so bad!

  Stella: That’s why you love me. ??

  I laughed. She’s right, that’s why I love her. She makes me laugh, and she’s always there for me. She’s more adventurous then I could ever be.

  Sighing I sat heavily in the chair. The hotel room was clean, quiet and empty. I missed having someone holding me close as I slept. The warmth of Jacks body always kept the cold away.

  Bending over, I tied my boots while berating myself for such thoughts. You hate Jack, remember? He’s been fucking Sally and who knows how many others! Probably been doing it your whole relationship.

  How I wish that voice was wrong, but I was positive it was right. You are not going back, it screamed.

  Like fucking hell, I was! I scream back.

  Whatever Jack and I had was over, and it didn’t hurt, not even a little. These moments of sorrow were phantom memories. A comfortable routine that is set off course. Like a train that derailed.

  Jack: Please, Mia.

  Me: Fuck off, Jack!

  Jack: It didn’t mean anything, babe.

  Me: Stop. Fucking. Calling. Me.

  Jack: I love you…

  Me: I don’t love you, Jack, leave me alone, please!

  Jack: Don’t do this.

  Me: I will block you!

  Jack: Mia, babe, it was one fucking mistake. You’re really going to throw away four years?

  Me: At least you do not deny it.

  Jack: Come on babe. You’re really going to throw away four years over one mistake?

  Me: Those four years are like a smudge in my life. A little blurry and already forgotten.

  Me: Just once? Your hand looked awfully comfortable climbing its way towards her snatch.

  Jack: Mia, come on, let’s move past this.

  Me: Already done that. Goodbye Jack.

  After I sent the last message, I waited with suspended breath for him to try again and was blissfully relieved when my phone didn’t make a peep. Maybe he finally got it through his head. It was over the minute he touched her.

  It was over long before that, the damn voice reminded me.

  Oh, stuff a sock in it! I told it.

  Standing, I slipped a few twenties into my back pocket with my driver’s license and room key. I wasn’t taking a purse tonight since I knew I was going to party hard. I deserved a good night of forgotten bullshit and alcohol-induced fun.

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