Free Never Google Heartbreak by Emma Garcia Page B

hands.
    ‘It’s difficult, isn’t it? I mean, you need to use soap to wash your hands, but you don’t want it getting into the setting,’ she says, gazing at her perfectly tanned hand. There’s something sparkly there and I turn my head slightly to get a better look. She stretches out her fingers a little. She’s wearing a gleaming engagement ring – pink solitaire diamond, platinum band. I look from the ring to her face and she smiles. ‘So . . . it would appear, my dear, that it
is
a little too late for you and Rob after all.’
    My insides retreat like a wave before swelling up unbearably.
    ‘You’re engaged?’ I croak. She opens her beautiful eyes wide and nods. ‘You’re getting married – you and Rob are?’ The shock of it hits me like a bucket of iced water. I’m frozen, lipstick in hand, mouth open in horror.
    ‘I’m afraid so.’ She looks in the mirror and slides the band from her ponytail, tossing her silky chestnut hair to one side like she’s in a shampoo advert. ‘I know what you’re thinking. Everyone’s saying it’s so sudden, but he’s insisting, so we’re off to get hitched in Bali next month.’ She spritzes a little perfume behind her ears and turns to me, head on one side. ‘So I guess it’s time for you to get over him and move on . . . After all, he has.’ She sashays to the door, turns round and gives a little wave. ‘
Ciao!
’
    I’m left gawping at her back. My veins run icy; I can’t take this in. He’s getting married? Not two months ago he was engaged to me. He’s getting married to her after less than two months, but he couldn’t marry me after five years? What is he trying to do to me? It’s not enough to break my heart, he has to shatter it and then shit on top? Jesus! I’m pacing, making stiletto marks in the beige carpet and shaking my head, trying to comprehend it all. It can’t be true, he wouldn’t do this . . . but that ring! I can’t let it happen; she
can’t
steal my future husband. I feel a bit queasy and need to sit for a moment, but I’m even dizzy sitting down. I can hear someone calling me, but the strange thing is, my vision keeps going in and out of focus. I’m peering into the room and then Max is standing there.
    ‘Ah, so this is where the cool set hangs out!’ He slides his back down the full-length mirror until he’s sitting next to me. He smiles. ‘How you doing?’
    I squint at him. ‘It’s the ladies’. What you doin’ in here?’
    ‘Just trying to pick up women.’
    ‘Oh.’ I grin manically, then remember that bitch. ‘They’re engaged. She’s got a fuck-off ring.’
    He looks down at the carpet and pats my leg. ‘Why don’t I get us a taxi?’
    ‘Engaged.’ I shake my head, sending the room sliding. ‘She is engaged to Rob!’
    ‘Ah, it’ll be a rebound thing.’ He takes my hand and gives it a squeeze. ‘It’ll never last. Have you seen the arse on her?’
    ‘Max! She’s about a size eight.’
    ‘Around the tits.’
    He looks at me, grinning, willing me to laugh, and I can’t help it. We sit on the toilet floor, giggling. The room seems to shift and spin. I stagger to my feet and stand there, wobbling. I offer him my hand.
    ‘Let’s get a drink!’ He smiles and I suddenly think he’s very good-looking.
    I’m hoping to sneak to the bar, but we step out of the toilet into a throng of baying women. Jane stands on the staircase, holding her bouquet aloft. The gentle chatter and soft laughter at dinner have been replaced by something sinister; the women shriek and cackle as Jane waves the bouquet madly. A few men hover nervously around the edges. The photographer weaves through the women taking snaps.
    ‘Are you ready?’ Jane screams.
    ‘Yes!’ howls the pack, and they start to jostle for pole position. I lean on Max as we try to pick our way past – and then I spot Sam. Right at the back, raising her willowy arms up like a beach volleyball babe. Rob leans on the wall behind her, laughing.