The Truth About Fairy Tales by Annie Walker

Author:Annie Walker [Walker, Annie]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Literature & Fiction, Romance, Contemporary, Romantic Comedy
Amazon: B00IA7ORZE
Publisher: True Romance
Published: 2014-02-04T22:00:00+00:00

Chapter Ten

Back home, I began the final weeks of my life in Austin more determined than ever. I was going through with my plans for the future. I was not going to let Jackson hurt me and I didn’t care if he returned my love or not.

I started spending more time at home in my little apartment getting rid of the junk that I’d accumulated through all those years of school. I was pretty much lying to Jackson, telling him I needed all the time I could get to study without interruptions, but the truth was I was distancing myself from him and the inevitable.

I’d finished my work at the restaurant before we’d left for Paris, so I was free to obsess about what Jackson was doing without me. I wondered which of the women of the week he would be with tonight.

Jackson had told me that he wanted to take me out the night of my final test to celebrate my new career. He wouldn’t tell me where he was taking me, but he’d told me to dress up because it was going to be a special night.

By this time, we were barely talking to each other. At least, I was barely talking. He was trying, but I was just so angry with him that I usually ended up picking an argument and having him give up on me entirely or I would simply hang up on him. I was scared and this was the only way I knew to fight that fear.

The day of my final test Jackson left a message for me to meet him at the Woods, a very upscale restaurant, at eight. I spent the rest of the day crying.

I was determined I was leaving the following morning to take my things back home. I’d told him all of that and been rewarded by his silence again before I’d hung up on him. I still didn’t know where I stood with him.

By seven, when I looked at the puffy eyed monster in the mirror, I decided I had to see him one last time no matter how pitiful I looked. I could do this. I could be strong. I would just walk into that restaurant, smile, and tell him to go to hell.

I layered on pounds of makeup in an attempt to cover the puffiness beneath my eyes but that really didn’t work. No amount of makeup could cover my red eyes or nose.

I put on my favorite dress and told the maître d’ whom I was there to meet. She smiled and told me Jackson was waiting for me.

He was seated at a nice quiet corner table of the restaurant facing the door, so I knew he’d seen me arrive. There was champagne waiting—it was to be the perfect sendoff. As I got closer, my steps faltered, the maître d’ looked back at me and I bit my lip and clenched my hands tight to keep from crying.

I knew the second he stood and kissed me and then waited for me to sit that he’d seen the evidence of my tears.

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