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Please read this story and then decide your actions at the end to get to the next section! Leave your comments below on how you want the story to go!
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It turns out that Ellie and I have a lot in common. Obviously, we have the same terrible taste in men and similar career goals but we also love many of the same bars and restaurants. One day after work, we went out to a small, posh bar we’d both frequented in the past called Blush. It’s a small space, with only six seats at the bar and three small bistro-esque tables. It’s usually packed to the gills but Ellie and I got lucky and secured two seats at the bar.
“Do you think the photographer will like the outfit we pulled together?” Ellie asks. That day, we’d styled our first photoshoot as a team. Ellie has a brilliant eye for detail. While pulling looks from the sample closet, I felt that something was missing. Ellie found the most perfect jeweled bracelet that tied the whole look together.
“I think so,” I reply, sipping on my glass of wine.
“We make a good team,” Ellie grins lifting her glass for a toast. I clink my glass against hers and take another sip. “It’s a shame it’s Peter that first brought us together.”
“He really didn’t tell you about me, did he?” I ask. I believed Ellie when she told me the first time but I still can’t fully comprehend that Peter would sink so low.
“No,” Ellie says sadly. She swirls the drink in her glass. “I really thought he was something special, too. I felt as heartbroken as you looked when you walked in the room.”
“Thanks again for apologizing.” I give shoulder a squeeze. “It’s not your fault at all, but I appreciate it all the same.”
“Thanks,” she says weakly. “I don’t think he’s sorry, though.”
“Probably not,” I sigh.
“It’s not fair!” Ellie puts her glass down sharply. “We’re the ones that were hurt and lied to. We’re the ones suffering, and what’s he doing? He’s probably already found another girl to pick up.” I guess that the wine was starting to have an effect on Ellie.
“At least he’s out of our lives for good,” I reply.
“It’s not enough,” she says with a determined look in her eye.
“What do you mean?” I ask, trying to mask my growing concern.
“I mean we need to take revenge on Peter,” she grins. “What do you say?”
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I am his. And he is mine.
Always and forever.
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