Chapter 8

Park West was known for its active nightlife, so I couldn't find a quiet spot to wallow in my misery--oh there was one. After a long moment of walking unsteadily, I trudged over to the lonely spot beneath a lamplight, my purse hanging off my shoulder listlessly, head aching, heart aching. CIS (current internal Status): miserable, life currently feels like it's tearing at the seams.

Resting my back against the hard walls of the quiet alley, I swiped away the hair sticking to my head due to the humid air, and took out Ayla from my purse, holding on to her for a while.

I sniffed quietly, and tried to picture myself how I looked like at the moment: wretched.

So not me.

A flare of anger sparked to life in my gut. The m*otherf*cking cheat!

I wrenched Ayla open and flipped through pages, looking for the one I'd written about Jerry.

When I found it, I tore it out, not caring if there was some