CHAPTER 2

The TV remained turned on. She had slept out in the armchair like some ninety-year-old granny, but the Geordie Shore marathon went on. She looked at the clock. On a Saturday night, she was already passed out in front of the TV by nine o'clock. What a crazy life she had.

She kicked the messenger bag and clothing bag aside as she dragged herself across the floor while the thumping resumed.

How come? She screamed as she pulled open the door.

Her partner in crime and best buddy was standing on the other side of the door, fist lifted in mid-knock.

Mia said, "Oh my goodness, you're still alive."

Peyton moved back to allow her entry into the flat, giving her a perplexed look. Whatever had happened must have been serious because she was carrying ice cream and alcohol.

After placing her supply bag on the kitchen counter, Mia turned to observe Peyton. She stepped forward, reaching out to cup her face and giving her a pitying gaze. She pushed her hand away, Peyton.

How come? She enquired. "What in the world is happening?"

"Why didn't you return my call?"

Peyton glanced at the spot where she had left her phone upon entering. The place it had landed was still where it was, forgotten. After sitting down with her meal and drink, she hadn't given it any more attention.

With Mia staring at her, Peyton became a bit concerned and asked, "Just tell me what the fuck happened." "Is Cassie doing well?"

Cassie is alright, Mia remarked. Since I haven't heard anything different, I believe she is okay. After all, no news is good news.

"Cease! To stop Mia from droning on, Peyton raised a hand. "Just explain everything to me."

"Dale is here."

Peyton had a loss of blood flow to her face. She still loved Dale even though they had been through some growing pains together. In the event that something happened to him, she was unsure of what to do.

"Oh my God, what took place? Is he alright? Is he really dead? God, please, please tell me he's still alive.

Mia growled, "He's not dead... yet," which caused Peyton to take a critical look at her.

What on earth is meant by that?"

"Is your laptop somewhere? Mia enquired as she peered about.

"Mia, what the fuck!"

"See, I'll be able to show you more easily. Where is it, then? Your notebook computer. Give it to me," Mia said, raising her hands in a "give me" motion.

Peyton walked to her room, stomped on the desk that Mia had crammed in there with her queen-size bed, and took her laptop, praying that the cause of her strange behavior would soon become clear.

She placed it on the kitchen counter and said, "Here."

Mia clicked about as she opened the lid. Both she and Peyton were aware of each other's passwords. They had nothing to hide.

"There!"With a victorious gesture, Mia pointed to the television.

Peyton furrowed her brows as she glanced over the F******k page. It was a F******k profile of Dale.

How come?"

"Observe! With a point, Mia stated.

Peyton squinted at the screen, bending down to see the state of their connection.

She read, "Married to Starr Sparkles." "However, loving hell?"

When Mia clicked on the photo gallery, it was visible. Her fiancee planted a kiss on what could only be a showgirl from Las Vegas while a beaming Elvis Presley watched on. The following picture showed them both in a limousine, their mouths pressed together and a brilliant diamond glimmering on her ring finger.

This is not possible to be taking place. It seems like she's dreaming. A nightmare triggered by combining her beverages and consuming Thai cuisine that had been mashed into a mushy mixture inside a plastic bag. Her fiancé could never have married a showgirl in Vegas in a flash while she was left behind in Australia, clueless about what was going on. For crying out loud, this was Dale. Boring, dependable, and sensible Dale. He was not one for spontaneity. He didn't take any action that hadn't been thoroughly considered. It was the reason they didn't have a formal residence together. That was the reason for the twelve months of their engagement.

Her Dale would never, ever consider looking at another lady without informing her, on God's green earth. He would never, ever get married and let her find out on fucking F******k.

Beside her, Mia said, "Breathe, Peyton."

After taking a big breath, Peyton smacked the laptop lid shut. No. Simply no. This would not go down well with her. It is not possible.

As Mia handed her the phone, she added, "Check your phone, sweetie."

Peyton activated her screen by pressing the home button. Mia had missed a few calls, and Cassie and Chloe had also missed a few. She was scrolling through the alerts when she suddenly spotted a text message at the bottom. After giving it a touch, she read the message.

"I apologize."

It only mentioned that.

"Pardon me? Peyton let out a scream. "Is he really sorry?"

Peyton leaped up and down on the floor in reaction to Mrs. Feeney's repeated floor hammering.

Peyton took a big sip of the wine that Mia had given her. There was no way this could be occurring.

"A shout-out to my former partner! The Little Mix song was playing in the background when Peyton shrieked and raised her glass of wine. Peyton knew she was going to get the lecture of her life tomorrow, but for now, she couldn't give a flying fuck since Mrs. Feeney had long ago given up pounding on the floor. Before he had the grace to break up with her, her fiancé had wed a Las Vegas showgirl and made the announcement on F******k.

"Oh my! Peyton threw herself onto the couch and finished her wine, saying, "This is the perfect song." "If I were a pop sensation, I could write a song about my former partner." How awesome would that be?"