All Chapters of A VOW TO HATE: Chapter 61 - Chapter 70

LAYLA 47/60WEDNESDAY A guilty conscience. They ingrained it in everyone. From birth. Some people spend their entire lives suppressing it. Not feeling that pain in your heart when you don't scan an item at the grocery store. Neglecting the tightness in your chest when you grab something the other person desperately wants. To take it up a notch - pulling a trigger on another human being and still laying down at night. My father expected me to take whatever I wanted. That's how he raised me, so my conscience has always been secondary. I'd never felt it so intensely until this moment. Hiding the guy who hurt your friend from her then going to the park with said friend.Freya and I arrived at the park. We used my car, and she hopped in the back instead of the passenger seat. Not much of a deal, but it made me pause for a few seconds and stare at her. She buried her eyes in her cell phone. I kept my eyes on the road, but sometimes my mind came up with a scenario like this - "You bit

LAYLA50/60SATURDAYThe Cruz shut down the mall for their daughter's outfit trial. Dramatic. Well, aware. We were interested in one shop, but they shut it down.When she said dress shopping, I expected just us and maybe a few other girls.I was wrong. Picture a stall filled with a dozen girls. Then there's the bride and me.The worst part? There were only a few of them that Penelope was acquainted with. Parents selected the others. In fact, they were offered the "position" Models and daughters of influential people.Creepy. All we needed were two dresses for the after-party. I figured an hour would do and Pen and I could slip out and enjoy the weekend. Grab a few drinks.Wrong again. We got here before noon, and it was almost two pm.The girl number one has tried half a dozen dresses, but they aren't "giving wedding" as she would like them to be.You'd think the bride would be more concerned. Her wedding. Big day and all. Pen and I tried less than five dresses before deciding on a few

LAYLA 50/60 SATURDAY We should stall. Slow down. I twitched at the bump. Why does he have so many clothes on? What happened to shirtless Aiden? Who gave him a fricking shirt? Can I strangle said person? “Take it off.” I murmured, turning sideways, and tugging at a free button. “Layla.” “Stop talking,” I whisper, pressing a finger against his lips. My back would hurt from these movements. I took my head off his lap, sliding to sit beside him, steadying my body with a firm grip on his arms. “You’re drunk, love.” “Do you enjoy blow jobs?” I grazed my bottom lip as my eyes trailed to his shorts. “No. This isn't good..." “No, you don’t enjoy blow jobs?” I squirmed, batting my lashes at him. He was so close; I reached out and kissed his lower lip. “Fuck.” Palming him through his shorts, I cupped a fist full and pumped gently. “Layla. You’re drunk.” “Forgive me if I’m sloppy." I palmed his face with the other, my lips tracing his cheeks. I guess I can kiss his whole face.

LAYLA52/60MONDAY“Are we set?”We swapped items. My phone for a juice pack.“Ouch.”I grieved in pain, observing the mark on my palm. Her finger grazed mine while collecting it.“Sorry. I guess my nails are too sharp.”I smiled weakly, noticing what she was holding in her other hand. Cellphone.“Uh, it’s okay. Just a scratch."I soothed the spot with my fingers. Her gaze loomed over me as I did. She smiled, but it felt strange. Like how she twitched the edge of her lips instead of pressing in a straight line, as always.Am I overthinking? Most likely. She scraped me when we passed stuff around. It happened. Not like she would try to hurt me on purpose.“Can I use the charger in your room?”I nodded a few times, and she turned away.I filled the table with snacks and inserted a random movie to watch.Sipping my juice on the couch, I took deep breaths, unable to shake the feeling off my chest. The kind you get when you eat bad sushi. Nauseating. As though you could toss your entire bel

LAYLA 58/60 SATURDAY Does this count as day 1 out of the seven days or day 58th, which is the second stage of the wedding? Yesterday was a church reception with drinks and dancing until everyone was exhausted. Bella kept tugging my arms on the dance floor, but I lost willpower after the news. She pried the information out on the Uber back to her place, where I spent the night, too agitated to plan a trip home. I doubt my spewed thoughts stayed in her mind. She was tipsy, whispering all the things she and Drew would do alone. I used earplugs. The next morning, today, I booked a cab back to my place. They were both asleep when I slipped out. The venue was a rooftop, just friends, no business partners or middle-aged men and women. This one was for Pen and Quentin. No, I haven’t seen or heard from him. I wandered back to the entrance, hopeful he would be there. The place was empty. Everyone was inside. I checked with so many people on the dance floor. I would have notice