Page 208 of P.S. I'm Still Yours

He has his hand on her thigh and his arm looped around her shoulders.

I must rewatch the story a dozen times to make sure I’m not imagining things.

I want nothing more than to go fucking ballistic on my phone. But smashing my phone into a thousand pieces is not going to help me get my girl back.

Only one thing will.

* * *

HADLEY

“Wake up, sunshine! We’re going to be late for class.” Maggie’s voice stirs me awake.

My eyes flutter open, and I attempt to sit up, only to be forced back down onto the mattress by the dizziness crashing into me.

Why do I feel like I’m dying?

Memories of last night come flooding back in, along with a tinge of dirty shame and the promise to never drink this much again.

Why did I think going to a frat party on a Sunday night would be a good idea?

I reach for my phone on my nightstand just as Maggie’s walking into the bathroom and shutting the door.

I check the screen, cursing at the time. 8:50 a.m. We came home at around 3:00 a.m. last night, and I have class in an hour.

My gaze drops to the notifications I’ve missed while asleep.

I have a text from my mom, asking me how school is going and when she can come visit, but that’s not all.

I also have a few messages from an unknown number.

The first message is a zoomed-in screenshot of my last Instagram story—courtesy of a very drunk Maggie.

The picture shows me sitting on the couch with some rando whose name I don’t even remember.

I figured a little flirting might help me get over Kane, but the guy was too handsy for my taste, and after trying to convince myself that I was into it for ten minutes, I ended up asking Maggie to fake an “emergency” so we could leave.

Unknown Number

Who is that?

I obviously didn’t respond fast enough because the stranger double texted me soon after.

Unknown Number

Hads, who the FUCK is that?

Unknown Number

I swear to fucking God if you slept with him, I’m tracking him down and chopping his puny dick right off his body.

Unknown Number

In case it wasn’t clear already, I will not fucking lose you.

Funny enough, the threat isn’t what’s causing my stomach to do cartwheels.

There’s only one person in the world who calls me Hads.

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