Read Online Life Before Damaged Vol 7 :The Ferro Family (Life Before Damaged #7) by H. M. Ward - Free Book Online
Authors: H. M. Ward
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Another threat? I’m a lucky girl.”
She lowers her lashes and examines the audaciously large diamond ring on her left hand. She tilts it to the side, watching the light dance off the massive stone.
“No dear, it’s advice. I rarely offer anything of the sort, Miss Granz.” She looks up at her reflection in the mirror, smooths her gown, and adds, “If I were you, I’d take it.”
Mrs. Ferro walks out of the restroom, letting voices and laughter from the reception echo through the open door. I turn and stare at myself in the mirror again. A swollen gash throbs angrily from my right cheek. My skin is already turning an awesome shade of purple and my eyes are puffy.
Frustrated, I slap both hands on the counter by the sink and yell. I can’t change Pete. That’s not in my power.
I thought I did. I really thought I did, but people don’t change.
Seeing him tonight gave me hope that he’d started to come around, but a nice tuxedo, a suave dance, and a warm smile aren't proof of anything. He puts on a good show, but ultimately the decision to make any real changes is his.
I put myself back together, and I walk out of the restroom, determined to do my part. I make my way back into the ballroom to try and find Pete. How the heck can I get him away from his hoochie horde? My eyes scan the room, but he's nowhere to be found and neither is the tramp troupe for that matter.
I'm too late; he's gone. A pair of hands rests on my shoulders and I feel someone pressing up against my back.
"I've been looking for you. Feeling better?"
It's Phil. His voice is most welcome, and I want to lean into him so badly and let myself be comforted by someone kind, but I can feel Mrs. Ferro's eyes on me. Reluctantly, I wriggle away, breaking any contact from him.
"I'm sorry, Philip, I'm tired. I think I'll just head on home."
Phil's hand reaches up to touch me, but I take a step back.
"I can drive you home if you want."
This guy is everything I've ever wanted and the thought of having him drive me home and what that could lead to is tempting, but I can't. I have to push him away. I take another step back.
"No, that’s all right, but thank you. I have a driver waiting for me."
He smiles at me and stuffs his hands in his pockets. “Another time then?”
I nod, not wanting to tell him this can never happen. “Another time.”
Another lifetime.
POPCORN AND REALITY TV
September 11th, 7:31 pm
A week and a half worth of newspapers and magazines stare mockingly at me from their stack on the coffee table. I think I can die miserably now. My popped boob and I made every paper, magazine and trashy gossip website imaginable. More cameras went off than the ones right around us. The place was flooded with photographers we didn’t even notice.
Most printed publications were blurred out due to censorship laws, but the internet is an unforgiving bitch, and my perky little nip is now more famous than my face. Going to school has been excruciating, knowing that everyone in my class, along with my professors, have probably seen the pictures.
Not a single article depicts Pete and me as a budding young couple like Constance wanted. Instead, they focus on the fight between Pete and the photographers, my booby-oopsie, and the fact that Pete left with some beautiful rich heiress after being disappointed in the perks that Granz Textiles had to offer.
Since the gala, I've become a hermit. I go to class and come back to the apartment. Phil has been texting and calling me incessantly. He even surprised me on campus in between classes with a hot cup of coffee. I had to make sure my driver was nowhere in sight. Otherwise, he probably would have reported it to Mrs. Ferro. It wouldn’t surprise me to discover the car is wired to record sound and video.
And Pete. That’s the worst part. I haven't seen him since the gala. He hasn't reached out, and we haven't had any planned public appearances since. A couple of times I punched his number into my phone,
She lowers her lashes and examines the audaciously large diamond ring on her left hand. She tilts it to the side, watching the light dance off the massive stone.
“No dear, it’s advice. I rarely offer anything of the sort, Miss Granz.” She looks up at her reflection in the mirror, smooths her gown, and adds, “If I were you, I’d take it.”
Mrs. Ferro walks out of the restroom, letting voices and laughter from the reception echo through the open door. I turn and stare at myself in the mirror again. A swollen gash throbs angrily from my right cheek. My skin is already turning an awesome shade of purple and my eyes are puffy.
Frustrated, I slap both hands on the counter by the sink and yell. I can’t change Pete. That’s not in my power.
I thought I did. I really thought I did, but people don’t change.
Seeing him tonight gave me hope that he’d started to come around, but a nice tuxedo, a suave dance, and a warm smile aren't proof of anything. He puts on a good show, but ultimately the decision to make any real changes is his.
I put myself back together, and I walk out of the restroom, determined to do my part. I make my way back into the ballroom to try and find Pete. How the heck can I get him away from his hoochie horde? My eyes scan the room, but he's nowhere to be found and neither is the tramp troupe for that matter.
I'm too late; he's gone. A pair of hands rests on my shoulders and I feel someone pressing up against my back.
"I've been looking for you. Feeling better?"
It's Phil. His voice is most welcome, and I want to lean into him so badly and let myself be comforted by someone kind, but I can feel Mrs. Ferro's eyes on me. Reluctantly, I wriggle away, breaking any contact from him.
"I'm sorry, Philip, I'm tired. I think I'll just head on home."
Phil's hand reaches up to touch me, but I take a step back.
"I can drive you home if you want."
This guy is everything I've ever wanted and the thought of having him drive me home and what that could lead to is tempting, but I can't. I have to push him away. I take another step back.
"No, that’s all right, but thank you. I have a driver waiting for me."
He smiles at me and stuffs his hands in his pockets. “Another time then?”
I nod, not wanting to tell him this can never happen. “Another time.”
Another lifetime.
POPCORN AND REALITY TV
September 11th, 7:31 pm
A week and a half worth of newspapers and magazines stare mockingly at me from their stack on the coffee table. I think I can die miserably now. My popped boob and I made every paper, magazine and trashy gossip website imaginable. More cameras went off than the ones right around us. The place was flooded with photographers we didn’t even notice.
Most printed publications were blurred out due to censorship laws, but the internet is an unforgiving bitch, and my perky little nip is now more famous than my face. Going to school has been excruciating, knowing that everyone in my class, along with my professors, have probably seen the pictures.
Not a single article depicts Pete and me as a budding young couple like Constance wanted. Instead, they focus on the fight between Pete and the photographers, my booby-oopsie, and the fact that Pete left with some beautiful rich heiress after being disappointed in the perks that Granz Textiles had to offer.
Since the gala, I've become a hermit. I go to class and come back to the apartment. Phil has been texting and calling me incessantly. He even surprised me on campus in between classes with a hot cup of coffee. I had to make sure my driver was nowhere in sight. Otherwise, he probably would have reported it to Mrs. Ferro. It wouldn’t surprise me to discover the car is wired to record sound and video.
And Pete. That’s the worst part. I haven't seen him since the gala. He hasn't reached out, and we haven't had any planned public appearances since. A couple of times I punched his number into my phone,
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