All the Wrong Choices Read online

  "I mean a night outside of our apartments. A night where we listen to music and dance, maybe flirt with guys."

  Addison arches her brow as if I've just said something in a foreign language. "What? It's not like I'm married." Each of them looks around at one another, not smiling and appearing a little uncomfortable.

  "What, too soon?" Still, they say nothing. "Come on, guys," I was the one nursing a broken heart, not them. "What am I supposed to do? Sit around and pine over a guy I don't believe loved me in the first place. If he had, he wouldn't have done what he did, so I refuse to give him any more of my time."

  Molly slowly begins to nod her head as she smiles, "I'm proud of you, Matthew never deserved you."

  "True," Addison bumps her shoulder into mine, and I glance over at her. "She's far too good for him."

  I'm still raw; I still feel as though I missed all the signs, and somehow I'm partly to blame for the outcome. But the final choice, the one where two people I loved found it so very easy to betray me, it was on them, not me. I'll never take fault for the lines they crossed. However, I will also never be a victim again.

  All dressed up, Addison and I climb into the awaiting Uber and sit back for the ride. Drinking is what I plan to do, so driving is not an option. We've decided to meet Molly, Rachel, and Gina, another friend of ours at Tequila's, a local club downtown. It's been a while since I've been out to a club or dancing in a bar. Considering Matthew wasn't the club kind of guy. He preferred expensive dinners and wine, followed by a nice walk or a movie at home. That's nice, don't get me wrong, but not as an every weekend thing. It's fun to meet friends, let loose, and unwind from a long week.

  I'm excited, realizing I've let so many things go when I chose to be with Matthew. I loved the parts that made me who I was, but I placed them aside and became who he needed me to be.

  "We stick together," Addison says as we pull up outside the club and climb out of the car. Standing on the curb, we both look toward the red neon sign that says Tequilas. People are standing in line to get in, but we'll be able to skip on through. Perks of Gina's uncle being part owner, we have anytime passes to enjoy ourselves.

  Hand in hand, Addi and I walk toward the bouncer, and when he sees us coming, I notice the way he scans over us from head to toe. Kurt is harmless, he is a major flirt, but he is also very married and satisfied. He is playing a part and appreciating a couple of girls dressed up and ready to cut loose.

  "Well, look at you," reaching out, he hooks my waist and pulls me in closer. Offering my cheek for a kiss, he doesn't pull back right away. Instead, he says something that surprises me. "The man is a complete fool. You are a catch, Ms. Dani, and I guarantee you he'll come crawling back when he realizes how big he fucked up."

  With another squeeze, he releases me and unhooks the cable that blocks us from entering.

  "He can crawl all he wants, Kurt," I smirk as I stepped on by, feeling more confident than I had in weeks, months even. "But his sorry ass had his chance. There's no going back now."

  "Smart girl," he chuckles. “I know for sure, there will be a line waiting to take his spot, sweetheart.”

  His wife is a lucky woman; Kurt has a heart of gold, respects women, and adores her. He wears his ring proudly and talks about her often. They've been together since they were fifteen. Now, if that's not an inspirational love story, I don't know what is.

  I allow Addison to lead as I look around while we move through the club. Bodies grinding together, dancing to the music, so many people laughing and having a fantastic time. I can't wait to get a few drinks in me and live a little myself.

  "About time," I look up just in time to see a group part as Molly comes barreling toward us. She appears to be well ahead of us in the drinking category, smiling like a fool and shimmying her hips. Her drink is practically sloshing out of her cup in the process; only she doesn't seem to notice. "We were beginning to think you two decided to back out."

  “No way," I take her drink from her and toss it back, cringing as the straight vodka hits my tongue. "Blawk," I shiver and give the empty glass back to her.

  "That'll teach you to steal my drink." Pursing her lips, she dares me to argue. When she finds I have no intention of doing so, she flips her hair and walks away.

  Addison and I join them all near the bar, and after we each have a drink in hand, Moscato for me, we move to a tall table a few feet away.

  For the first time in weeks, I feel like the weight of the world isn't pressing down on my shoulders. After I’ve had a few drinks, I persuade them all to join me on the dance floor. Song after song, I can feel my body growing sticky with sweat, only I don't allow it to slow me down.

  The thumping of the music made the floor vibrate beneath our feet, and it's exhilarating.

  I'm just about to sneak off to grab another drink and maybe place a cool glass to my cheeks to help cool off, but I stop when I feel a hand on my hip.

  "Wanna dance," looking back over my shoulder, I'm pleasantly pleased with what I find. The guy is the exact opposite of Matthew, tall with blond hair, alluring eyes that promise a good time. He has a mischievous smile which I find attractive.

  "Sure," I attempt to turn around to face him, only he holds my waist and keeps my back pressing to his chest. The feeling of his hips moving behind me makes my already heated skin only feel hotter. He's sinful, grinding against my ass without a second of hesitation.

  Glancing toward my friends, I find they have all paired off with different guys, but as promised, Addison keeps a close eye on me.

  Winking at her, giving her assurance I'm fine; she allows herself to relax and enjoy the guy who is showing her a great deal of attention. He has dark hair, dark eyes, and an impressive build. There is no doubt in my mind this man attends a gym often. He whispers something to her, making her laugh as they continue to dance around and enjoy themselves.

  It's great to see my friends in this element instead of cooped up with me as I lay around and watch my life pass. Tonight is harmless fun, no expectations, no promises of tomorrow, just pure adrenaline and too much alcohol. If only my mother could see me now, she'd be so disappointed. The idea of that alone only drove me more as I lift my hands and hook them around the tall man behind me. The feeling of his fingertips making contact with my stomach as my shirt rises a tiny fraction.

  I love the feelings coursing through me.

  I am finally free.

  Chapter Five

  Danielle

  "I drank too much," Addison climbs out of my bed and practically crawls to the bathroom. I can hear her groaning and moaning the entire way. I, too, drank entirely too much but was smart enough to stop a couple of hours before we went home and switched over to water. My head is pounding, but my stomach feels fine.

  I can hear the sound of the shower running from the open bathroom door . Curling onto my side toward the sound of running water, I listen to her shuffling around in my bathroom. She has been here so many times, and so often, my place is pretty much hers too, and vice versa.

  Without meaning to, I doze off and wake to the sounds of a hairdryer. Dragging myself out of bed, I walk in the direction of the noise, and without thinking twice, I begin to strip out of my pajamas. Addison is entirely oblivious, working on her hair as I climb into the shower and sigh when the warm water begins to cascade over my body.

  My mind settles on the guy I danced with until the end of the evening. Surprised to find I didn't find it uncomfortable to feel another guy pressed against me. Yes, it was strange, exciting even, but appealing. I spent years with only Matthew touching me, and his touches were always so measured and predictable. He liked order; he strived for control, and those desires crossed over into the bedroom.

  The passion was weak but acceptable.

  There was definitely never the kind of passion where you tore at each other’s clothes. No unadulterated desire that triggers you to take what you want, the desperation that I'll admit I crave. It was always the same; if we began to kiss somewhere
other than the bedroom, Matthew would always stall until we reached that location. He wasn't adventurous, never wanted to try new things, always the same, one position, one goal, and done.

  But last night, the way the guy touched my hips, even gliding his hand over my stomach as he moved closely behind, was thrilling. I can still practically feel his hardness against my ass, and it made me a little hot.

  Halting my thoughts, remembering I'm not alone in the bathroom, I begin to wash my hair and body. Now is not the time to get turned on.

  But honestly, it's a relief knowing I can do this; I can move on.

  The blow dryer stops, and I hurry to rinse off my body before turning the water off.

  "Can you hand me a towel?" I hold my hand out from behind the shower curtain, waiting to feel the soft fabric against my palm.

  "Wanna go out for coffee?"

  Peeking around the sea-shelled fabric, I smile at my best friend, and it hits me right then just how fortunate I am. I may not have the most supportive family, but I have something even better. I have friends who love me unconditionally, and they don't care if I screw up or if I'm the right woman for some piece of shit man; they love me anyway. They stand by me.

  "And biscuits and gravy," I grin when I see her face sour.

  "How can you think of food right now," she holds her stomach and cringes, making a gagging noise? “And how could you allow me to drink so much last night?"

  "You looked like you were having fun," especially when a tall, dark stranger got all cozy with her. It was cute to watch them flirt, and he never once went too far. But he was interested in my gorgeous friend.

  "I was," I notice the way her face lights up instantly.

  "He did too," I push, knowing it's all she needs before she is spilling every single thing about last night and the man who held her interest.

  "Did you see him?" Her eyes widen, and she leans back against the countertop, forgetting all about her hungover state. I let the curtain fall shut and start to dry off my body. There may have been a shower curtain separating us, but I know already she is smiling from ear to ear. I could hear it in her voice. With the excited tone, the escalating volume at specific points in her story, she was almost giddy with joy.

  "His name is Anthony, but everyone calls him Tony. He's a Software Engineer, never been married, no kids." She continues, and I find myself smiling too at the enthusiasm she is feeling. "We agreed to dinner on Thursday night."

  "Sounds promising." Addison is not the type to fall fast, and she takes her time getting to know any man before deciding if he is worth the effort. I have always admired her ability to keep a man interested without giving him too much of herself. It helps that my best friend is gorgeous and intelligent, and any man would be lucky to gain her attention.

  "We'll see," she adds as I step out of the shower with the towel wrapped securely around my body. "You know me, slow and steady."

  Telling me a little more about Tony, I listen while I do my hair and makeup and walk into the bedroom to find something to wear.

  With my favorite pair of jeans and a comfortable shirt on, we gather our purses and the keys to my car before leaving my apartment. Within thirty minutes, we are at Andy's diner, seated in a corner booth with two cups of hot steaming coffee in front of us. We both decide to order the Sunday special, and my mouth is already watering with anticipation for the French toast and bacon.

  My phone vibrates on the table, and when I see Cathryn's name lighting up the screen, I immediately swipe to ignore and look up at Addison. Her nostrils flare, reflecting the way I feel, irritated.

  "What the hell does she expect from you?"

  "She expects me to make her feel better and add this to the long list of shit she caused throughout her life that I always forgave her for."

  "I know she is your sister Dani, but—"

  "Please don't hold back on my account," nothing she can say will be worse than anything I've already told myself. "You are more of a sister to me than Cathryn has ever been."

  My parents have catered to my sister her entire life. Cathryn never takes responsibility for anything; they enable her. It's time she realizes not everyone thinks she walks on water.

  Our breakfast is brought to our table by Morgan, our favorite waitress. She leaves us with extra bacon as she always does even when we don’t order it. We sit in partial silence as we devour our meal.

  I know I'll be forced to face my sister and the fact she and Matthew are now a couple. I can't avoid them forever, but I will attempt to for as long as I can.

  I rolled over in bed and heard something hit the floor with a thud. Peeking over the edge, I stare at the laptop now lying on the floor at my side. I fell asleep last night inputting grades from my students’ quiz on Friday.

  I was distracted after listening to my sister's voicemail that I cried myself to sleep. Had Addison known I'd let it all get to me again, she would have set out to bulldoze my sister.

  “I love him, Dani. I'm sorry I tried to ignore it; you know how he is. Matt feels terrible about how it all played out too, and we need to make this right,” Cathryn said.

  Make it right? Was she fucking serious?

  I found myself looking through old photos on my laptop of trips we've taken alone and with my family. In several, I found Matthew looking away from the camera, and when I'd follow his focus, I discovered that he was looking at Cathryn.

  It kills me to know I was so blind; maybe had I not been so lovesick, I would have noticed the signs. Perhaps I wouldn't have lost so much of my life to a man who never was true.

  Climbing out of bed, I gather my computer and set it on my nightstand before going into my kitchen. My apartment does feel like a new place after Addison and I went on a redecorating spree.

  When my packed items from Matthew's showed up at my front door a week after he walked out on me, it was another hit to my ego. It hurt to see how quickly he'd forgotten what we had. But an even more significant part of me is happy I didn’t have to figure out how to get them from his place and take the chance of a face-off with him and Cathryn.

  I imagine my sister packing up my stuff with a satisfied sparkle in her eyes. She won. That is the story of my life; she has always been the one who has come out on top. Things are given to her so quickly.

  I'm not a hateful person, I find it hard to hold a grudge, but this time is different. I honestly don't think there is ever a chance I will be able to look at Matthew or Cathryn and feel anything other than hate for both them.

  Chapter Six

  Danielle

  I run my fingers through my hair, loving how soft it feels. Going to the salon has always been a favorite of mine. I love the smell of my hair after being washed and conditioned. I'll admit the cut I've gone with is much different than my original style. I've had long hair for so long, the same color and cut for years.

  When I sat down in Marco's chair and told him I wanted to go shorter and a lighter color, he looked at me as if he was waiting for a punchline.

  "I need a change," I stress, holding his stare. "I feel like I'm trapped in this hole, like no matter how hard I try to move on, I'm at a standstill. I need a change," I repeat, hoping he understands just how desperate I am to be set free.

  Three hours later, I'm staring at the girl in the mirror, and I'm breathless. My long tendrils are now shoulder-length, no longer a deep chocolate brown, but instead a golden brown with even lighter highlights. The cut makes my hair appear fuller as it frames my face. I've never had a style so short, but I'm instantly in love with it.

  I feel like a new me.

  Stepping out of the salon, I walk down McArthur with a new purpose. My head held high, my confidence finally getting a much-needed boost. I smile when I get a lingering look from a good-looking guy, followed by a wink. It feels nice being noticed by an attractive stranger.

  Stopping in at Starbucks, I order my favorite mocha, and when the guy behind me pays for my drink, I give him an appreciative smile. While waiting for o
ur drinks, I flirt with the kind stranger, my cheeks heating when he tells me I'm beautiful. I'm beyond flattered, finding him attractive and charming.

  When he reaches up and grabs my drink, passing it to me, allowing his fingers to touch mine, I feel my pulse quicken. That's when I notice him wearing a wedding band on his finger. Instantly the events of the last ten minutes take a plummeting pitfall.

  He asks for my number, and I look from his ring to his soft blue eyes. Fighting the urge to give him an earful on behalf of his wife, who probably has no idea she is married to a cheating asshole, I take in a slow, calming breath.

  "Are you going to call me when your wife leaves, or do you plan on really testing the limits and doing it with her in the next room?"

  The smile falls from his lips, and he looks around the lobby to see if anyone else has been close enough to hear my words.

  "Let me guess, you usually take the ring off before you try to pick up another woman?"

  "This isn't what it looks like." He dares to try to reach for my hand, and I pull it away quickly. "Things aren't good at home."

  "So then get a divorce," what in the hell is wrong with men? "Don't run around trying to get a piece on the side while your wife sits home, probably wishing you'd pay her half the attention you pay to other women. When was the last time you told her she was beautiful?"

  I don't wait for him to respond, knowing if I stay in his presence any longer, I will most likely make an even bigger scene than I already have.

  The man has given me a rush, a high, I'll admit it. But that joyful feeling is now gone when I realize men indeed are scum. Cheating pigs with one-track minds and don't seem to care who they humiliate in the process.

  Men are whores, and guys get away with it.

  Put a woman in those shoes, and instantly she’s a slut, or a tramp. What a crock of shit! Why can't a woman sow her wild oats, or whatever you want to call it, without being referred to as loose? It's sick and stereotypical. Just because I don't have a penis, I'm expected to be a good little lady and get all gooey-eyed when a big strong man shows me attention. Please, that shit is ridiculous.