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."

why you made me wait

was to

I pass the

meeting today. Now bye-I gotta go and get

the bathroom. The warm water cascaded down in a proper shower-I shaved, shampooed, and cleansed every inch of

woman trying to mend her shattered heart after loving a man who treated it like dirt, crushed it

futile effort, I must admit. Nevertheless, I persisted. I refused to become that stereotypical heartbroken woman who spends 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 the nerdy, shy kid back then, often bullied for his acne-ridden face, yet now, here we

pondered how he looked now-still

mystery. His social media was sparse on 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 girl swoon, but still not enough to

it! Why was I even thinking

love me-the

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

myself in

mirro

of him. It helped me forget during the day but did nothing to spare me from the dreams where I found myself tucked in his arms and honestly those were

His scent. His breath against mine. His lips

flickered

him. He'd been calling and texting incessantly, and I'd 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 he did—he didn't

minutes ago. I'd made the right choice by muting him, but I still couldn't help but check his messages

"Come in."

widening in surprise at my appearance. "Wow! You look stunning, Evie," she approached me,

now, only I can

really do look stunning," she chuckled back, nudging my arm with a playful smile, "Tell me,

why not make his evening?" I chuckled, "After all, my days are mostly spent dwelling on a jerk

lift my spirits, "Today's

sound of my phone

looks like