Chapter Forty One ~ July

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I run my tongue over my teeth before turning to look at Ellis with a glare.

What. The. Fuck.

Did I just hear her right?

"You're not my fucking girlfriend, Cara," he snaps, shaking his head.

Alright, I did hear her right. Fucking prick.

Stepping forward, Ellis shakes his head and points to the front door. "I don't want you here. Didn't you understand that from the fact I didn't answer your calls?"

I'm seething.

Absolutely fucking furious.

I don't know where my anger should be directed, but right now, I'm hedging my bets on the blonde girl.

Ellis can come later.

"It didn't take you long to move on though, did it?" Cara retorts, glaring at him, and me.

Alright, I was wrong again. It's Ellis who deserves my damn fucking hatred. Every single second is making this worse.

"Care to explain?" I ask sweetly, smiling sarcastically at Ellis. I'm ignoring the sizzling, crispy pops coming from the stove, my lovely breakfast long gone. It's just going to burn to a crisp. Much like my damn fucking heart.

Ellis visibly exhales before nodding. "Cara was one of Brett's maids a few years back. We kept in contact."

A.

Few.

Years.

Back.

"I can see that," I retort, resting an arm on the counter. "Lots of contact."

"We dated for a while," Ellis admits, looking awkward as he reaches up and runs his hand through his hair. I let out a dry chuckle. He dated her.

"A while?" Cara mutters. "It was eight months. On and off all the time! How was I to know that the last time was the end?" she adds.

Eight.

Eight months.

I must be dreaming. Still asleep.

I'll laugh about this with Savannah when I wake up.

But for now... it's like a huge, blunt knife has been held against my chest, Ellis slowly pressing it to my skin, sliding it inside the middle of my ribcage like a fucking steak before eventually turning it to the right, destroying all the organs inside me and leaving me to deal with the consequences.

"I told you it was done, Cara," Ellis snaps. "Get out."

"Seriously?" she exclaims, eyes full of outrage.

Not willing to look at it any more, I turn back to the stove and walk over to the pan. The pancake is black, completely charred, destroyed and solid. There's no chance of saving it. Just like whatever Ellis and I have. Had.

I lift up the spatula, digging it under the pancake and chucking it out of the pan. I place it on the empty plate beside me, scowling at the burnt mess. It's a disaster. That was supposed to be my fucking breakfast.

"Bec." I don't even realize Ellis is behind me until I hear his voice. "Becky, please let me—"

"Don't you need to talk to your girlfriend?" I say sweetly, dropping the spatula onto the side.

"She was never my girlfriend. Not really," he replies and I furrow my brow. Is he serious?

Slowly, I turn around to face him. To give him credit, he looks ashamed. Even slightly worried.

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