My Dad's Bestfriend

Chapter 139 Hey Beautiful

Evelyn

Sixteen days had come and gone. Well, more precisely, sixteen days, eight hours, and forty-five minutes-I'd always been weak with numbers, but now I was sharp-pretty sharp. Thanks to Jacob, who might have messed up most aspects of my life, but inadvertently helped me strengthen my weakest point-math.

Did I owe him a thank you? Hell, no.

He'd shattered the most resilient part of my being-trust. Now, I knew better than to dole it out like candy on Halloween. There was a hundred percent chance it would get fucking trampled, just like that Italian bastard had done. He fucking ruined me.

God! I might never be able to fucking trust anyone!

With a groan, I rolled out of bed, my feet sliding into cozy slippers. I silenced the godforsaken alarm and stood up, stealing a glance at the mirror. The reduction in my dark circles was a welcome sign-I was making progress, and moving on. So were my dark circles, apparently.

Could I finally consider I was getting over him? Maybe, yeah.

My phone chimed, breaking the silence of the morning. Grabbing it from the nightstand, I unlocked the screen to find the familiar ID glowing-Cameron. Cameron Blake.

My newfound distraction.

I tapped into our conversation, and his text lit up the screen "Awake, beautiful?"

"Just stirring, Charmer," I replied.

"Just have to be enough of a charmer to charm you."

"Well, if you hadn't charmed me, we wouldn't be talking," I found myself smiling this time.

"I am flattered! Anyways, don't be late-I will be waiting for you at the cafe."

"I am never late."

That's why you made me

to

I pass

are meeting today. Now bye-I gotta

proper shower-I shaved, shampooed, and cleansed every inch of my

they? So, I put effort into presenting myself as anything but a woman trying to mend her shattered heart after loving a man who treated it like dirt, crushed it underfoot, and laughed in my face. There was no need to let Cameron glimpse

to move forward, and Cameron stumbling upon my social media after all these years, reaching out to me, felt like a sign. He remembered me from high school, where he saw me as the most beautiful girl in class—a perception I certainly didn't share, but perhaps in his eyes, I was. He was the nerdy, shy kid back then, often bullied for his acne-ridden face, yet now,

pondered how he

the flirting skills, which I admired. So, what about his face? It remained a mystery. His social media was sparse on photos, with only a few decent side profiles, but I'd stumbled upon some abs

was I even

still love me-the

mist, and slipped into a red short dress, pairing it with beautiful red high heels. Grabbing a small beige bag, I quickly applied makeup, and styled my hair, striving to

myself in

mirro

in food and sleep, a futile attempt to escape thoughts of him. It helped me forget during the day but did nothing to spare me from the dreams where I found

his arms around me. His scent. His breath against mine. His lips on mine. I missed him-every

flickered to

incessantly, and I'd been avoiding him like the plague. I didn't want to talk to him, no

please talk?"-His text flashed on the screen, sent fifteen minutes ago. I'd made the right choice by muting him, but I still couldn't help but check his messages

"Come in."

her eyes widening in surprise at my appearance. "Wow! You look stunning, Evie," she approached me, awestruck. "Everyone's going to be

I can

really do look stunning," she chuckled back, nudging my arm with a playful smile, "Tell me, who's the lucky guy?" she nudged

evening?" I chuckled, "After all, my days are mostly spent dwelling on a jerk who didn't give

him," Clara urged, trying to lift my spirits, "Today's about your date-just

sound of my phone chiming. It was a text from

looks like you're