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."

made me wait

was to

I pass the

why we are meeting today. Now bye-I gotta go

bathroom. The warm water cascaded down in a proper shower-I shaved, shampooed, and cleansed every inch of my body, ensuring that when I stepped out, I exuded the

into presenting myself as anything but a woman trying to mend her shattered heart after loving a man who treated it like dirt, crushed

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 were, connected by some

he looked now-still

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

it! Why was I even

still love me-the bitch in

spritzed on some body mist, and slipped into a red short dress, pairing it with beautiful red high heels. Grabbing a small

myself in th

mirro

best I'd looked 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 from the dreams where I found myself tucked in his arms and honestly those

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

flickered to

didn't want to talk to him, no matter how much I missed him.

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. A knock

"Come in."

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

steal my spotlight now, only I can

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

just someone from school, same grade. Apparently, he's had 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

spirits, "Today's about

I said, distracted by the sound of my phone chiming. It

looks like you're