Page 92 of He Loves Me, He Loves Me Not

‘Yeah,’ I say, still pissed about it. ‘Hollyn thinks Victoria is the other woman.’

‘Well, I don’tthink,’ she says. ‘Iknow.’

‘Hols said she hasn’t admitted it yet.’

‘Hollyn doesn’twantto be sure because she’s still convinced icky Vicki wasactuallyher friend. She wasn’t.’ She scrolls through the text messages, stopping at a couple of photos. ‘Look.’ She points at one of the photos. ‘Victoria heard Hollyn had found an engagement ring receipt, and she suggested thetwoof them go try on wedding dresses.’

‘That seems pretty normal for a couple girlfriends. Does it not?’

‘It does,’ Mercy says. ‘Except Victoria meant they’deachtry on dresses. That’s not normal. The bride to be tries on dresses, no one else.’

She flashes two photos my way. ‘When Hols had picked her favorite, she labeled it as “The One!” Vic’s photo is labeled as “TherealOne!”’

My heart sinks a little. She was trying to tell her, and Hollyn didn’t see it. That’s terrible.

‘I bet poor Hols was floating through her days on a cloud. Never seeing the thunderstorm headed her way. She gave that guy way too many chances. Easily a dozen.’

‘Adozen?’ I ask, shock dripping from my voice. ‘He cheatedthatmuch?’

‘Probably.’ Mercy shoves Hollyn’s phone into her pocket, marching past me to the bar. ‘Give me something strong,’ she says to the bartender.

‘All in, eh?’

She turns towards me. ‘I’m about to tell my best friend I snooped through her phone like a jealous husband, followed by; icky fucking Vicki has stolen your boyfriend. Booze will help with that.’

Mercy squints as she downs the shot, slamming the glass onto the bar precisely how River does at times.

‘Wish me luck!’

I mingle for a bit before I finally see River again.

‘Dax!’ he thunders, an empty glass in his hand as he walks my way.

‘River,’ I say as he blows by me towards the bar.

‘Scotch on the rocks. Make it another triple.’

Anothertriple?

‘Dax!’ he says again as he spots me as though we didn’t just have this conversation one minute ago.

‘How drunk are ya?’

‘Not gonna lie, buddy, this one got on top of me,’ he says with a drunken chuckle, throwing an arm over my shoulders. ‘Rough day; Summer dumped me.’

Shit. I slink out of his half hug, his arm dropping to his side as I do. River is painfully honest when he’s sober. Things you thought he’d buried away forever slowly start to surface when he’s drunk. Loudly.

‘What happened?’

‘I fucked it up.Again.’

He’s never had the best luck with women. He desperately searches for what he considers his one, but he is also the guy who tells the truth when asked a question like, ‘Do you think I’ve gained a few pounds?’ – a fatal flaw.

‘How?’

‘It’s not important,’ he says. ‘You know what?’ He takes a step closer, wrapping an arm around my waist and laying his head on my chest. ‘I love you, man. I don’t tell you that enough.’

‘We’re not doing this,’ I say, pushing him an arm’s length away.

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