Page 45 of Mr. Swoony

“Good for you. What else do you want to take?” Kyleigh opens a drawer, making herself at home, and cuts open the package.

“Nothing is mine. It’s all his. Fully stocked thanks to his mommy.”

She pulls out the sign that reads The Somersets.

“Super cute.” Kyleigh holds it up to Jade.

Jade nods and turns to me. “Let’s get your stuff.”

Kyleigh drops the sign on the table and follows us up the stairs. I walk into the primary bedroom, assuming my stuff was put in there.

The movers were running late, and I had to be at the venue to talk over last-minute details, since it was an outside reception and rain was predicted. Tristan said he’d take care of making sure all my stuff got where it was supposed to go.

“Did he unpack you?” Jade asks, staring around the room like I am, trying to figure out where all my boxes are.

Kyleigh goes into the closet. “Just men’s clothes in here.”

The bathroom doesn’t have my stuff either, the drawers on the one side empty except for a few things I left here when I spent the night.

“What the hell?” I rest my hands on my hips and look around.

Leaving the primary bedroom, I turn right into one of the spare bedrooms. Sure enough, all my boxes are here. I open the closet, and my clothes are hung on the rack.

“This is weird,” Kyleigh says. “Why is all your stuff in this bedroom?”

“Because he’s a jackass, that’s why.” Jade picks up a box and walks downstairs.

Kyleigh cringes at me, picking up a box. “Good decision on not marrying him.”

She walks out, and I sit on the edge of the queen bed and close my eyes. The anger inside me rises like flames doused in gasoline. Why did I ever allow him to do shit like this? My fists clench at my sides.

“This isn’t healthy. Let’s just get this done and free you from him forever.” Jade returns and fills her arms with my clothes.

She’s right. Why sit here and feel bad over Tristan doing something insensitive—again? He acted like this our entire relationship, and I just made excuses for him. I’ve called it off, so this is my last step before he’s out of my life. Especially after the pictures I saw him tagged in on socials this morning. I showed the girls on the way over.

They were from Tristan’s bachelor party, and I have to assume that Merrick tagged him in an effort to stick it to me. In one, there’s a topless stripper on his lap, and his face is planted between her breasts. The picture was taken from behind her, so I can only see her naked back and the thong she’s wearing, but there’s no other place for his face to have been. In the next picture, I can see his face because he’s leaning back, and he’s groping her. In the last, she’s on her knees in front of him and undoing the zipper on his pants. I can only imagine what happened next.

Just like when I saw the picture of him on our honeymoon with his arm slung around another woman, I don’t feel any hurt or anger. It only further solidifies my decision. I don’t even care to know what happened the night of his bachelor party or to know if things like that had been happening all throughout our relationship. It helps that I had a physical right after the last time we were intimate, and it came back without any issues.

For the next twenty minutes, the three of us get all my things stuffed into Jade’s SUV.

I go back inside to grab the wine bottle and see the sign on the table. I pick it up and stomp out of the kitchen into the backyard with it.

“Eloise, what are you doing?” Jade asks, following me.

At the edge of the pool, I fling the sign into the water and watch it sink to the bottom.

“You go, girl!” Kyleigh cheers, flipping off the water. “Fuck you, Tristan Somerset.” She raises her middle finger in the air to any cameras that might be around.

I’m sure he has them. Plus, the house will probably go on the market now, and he’ll move back to the city.

Jade puts her arm around my shoulders. “You deserve better, and you’re going to find it.”

I nod, and she squeezes me to her side.

Kyleigh comes to my other side. “He’s an asshole who has no idea what he just lost, but he will one day. You made the right decision. Not like you need my permission.”

“Thank you.”

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