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 wait ten

was to test

did I

are meeting today. Now bye-I gotta

cascaded down in a proper shower-I shaved, shampooed, and cleansed every inch of my body, ensuring that

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

years weeping over a sick bastard. I wanted 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

pondered how he looked now-still a

photos, with only a few decent side profiles, but I'd stumbled upon some abs pictures...and they were, well, you know enough to make a

was I even

you still love me-the bitch in my

a red short dress, pairing it with beautiful red high heels. Grabbing a small

surveyed myself in th

mirro

in days. After the breakup, I'd been burying myself 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

breath against mine. His lips on mine. I missed him-every part of him. As mine.

gaze flickered to

been avoiding him like the plague. I didn't want to talk to him, no matter how much I missed him. I didn't even want to see his damn face after what

ago. I'd made the right choice by muting him, but I still couldn't help but check his messages every few hours. It became a habit.

"Come in."

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

my spotlight now, only I can compliment that way," I chuckled, adjusting

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

a crush on me for a while. So, I thought, why not make his evening?" I chuckled, "After all, my days are mostly spent dwelling on a jerk who

Clara urged, trying to lift my spirits, "Today's

sound of my phone chiming. It was a text from

looks like you're running