Crazy but sweet

I'm I that cheap?



 

 

 

 LOLA’S POV

 

 

 I held onto his arm and stood in front of him.

 

 

 "How can you say that to me? Do you think I’m that cheap? I have no feelings for Sam, and you know it!" I rasped, nearly losing my mind.

 

 

 Jolie looked away, refusing to say a word.

 

 

 "Jolie, stop giving me the silent treatment! I’m not lying to you!" I groaned.

 

 

 He ignored me and picked up his briefcase, turning to leave.

 

 

 "Jolie, please!" I whined, snatching the briefcase from his grip.

 

 

 He spun around, stretching his hand out for me to give it back.

 

 

 I turned and bolted up the stairs.

 

 

 "Lola! I’m running late!" he yelled, chasing after me.

 

 

 I ran until I hit a dead end.

 

 

 Damn it.

 

 

 Before I could react, he was already behind me.

 

 

 "Jolie, listen to me," I pleaded, but he snatched the briefcase from me and walked away.

 

 

 I stood there, frozen.

 

 

 Jolie...

 

 

 I’ve never seen him behave this way before.

 

 

 Maybe because he’s never been this angry at me.

 

 

 What do I do?

 

 

 The last thing I want right now is for him to be mad at me. I can’t tell him about the pregnancy—not like this. It won’t change anything.

 

 

 I have to calm him down first. Then, I’ll tell him he’s going to be a dad.

 

 

 With a heavy heart, I walked to the bedroom and took a bath.

 

 

 

 ---

 

 

 LATER THAT EVENING

 

 

 When I woke up, I felt slightly better.

 

 

 I had stayed up at Sam’s house last night, unable to sleep. My mind had been consumed with thoughts of Jolie. I was heartbroken that he hung up on me like that.

 

 

 I sighed, rubbing my eyes as I sat up.

 

 

 It was getting dark.

 

 

 I got out of bed and walked downstairs. As I passed through the living room, something caught my eye—Jolie’s things on the table.

 

 

 His phones. His documents. His briefcase.

 

 

 He’s back!

 

 

 But… where is he?

 

 

 I hurried into the kitchen and started preparing dinner as fast as I could. Once everything was set, I plated the food, making sure it looked as perfect as possible.

 

 

 Tonight, I would do everything I could to make him believe me.

 

 

 I went upstairs and checked the rooms. When I opened the guest room door, I saw him lying on the bed.

 

 

 Shirtless.

 

 

 His eyes were closed, his breathing steady.

 

 

 Sleeping.

 

 

 I stood at the doorway, just staring.

 

 

 What do I do?

 

 

 Where do I start?

 

 

 Summoning my courage, I walked inside.

 

 

 The moment I moved, his eyes fluttered open.

 

 

 Ah!

 

 

 Why does my husband have to be so damn sensitive?

 

 

 I frowned as I approached the bed. He sat up, his beautiful, messy hair falling over his forehead. He casually reached for a hairband and tied it back.

 

 

 "Jolie, dinner’s ready," I said, my heart pounding against my chest.

 

 

 No response.

 

 

 No movement.

 

 

 Just that dull, exhausted look on his face.

 

 

 "Lost my appetite," he muttered before getting off the bed.

 

 

 "Jolie, please stop doing this! I swear, nothing happened between Sam and me! Please!" I pleaded.

 

 

 He shoved his hands into his pockets and walked past me like I was invisible.

 

 

 I followed him.

 

 

 He didn’t care.

 

 

 He moved down the stairs at a painfully slow pace while I stuttered behind him, begging.

 

 

 I threw out every possible explanation, every desperate word I could think of, but—

 

 

 Jolie Daviola didn’t even flinch.

 

 

 He snubbed me completely.

 

 

 Not a single word.

 

 

 Not even a glance.

 

 

 It hurt so much, my chest ached.

 

 

 Tears welled in my eyes.

 

 

 It never even occurred to me to call Jolie last night and tell him I was heading to Sam’s house.

 

 

 I should have.

 

 

 But—

 

 

 First, I thought he would be too busy, since he mentioned he’d be home late.

 

 

 Second, all I could think about was Sam. My emotions got the best of me.

 

 

 He’s like the brother I never had.

 

 

 I just wanted to be there for him.

 

 

 The first tear slipped down my cheek.

 

 

 Then another.

 

 

 And another.@@novelbin@@

 

 

 "I hate you, Jolie Daviola!" I cried angrily. "You’re so stone-hearted! I hate you!"

 

 

 Then, I turned and ran up the stairs, storming into my room.

 

 

 I slammed the door shut, threw myself on the bed, and cried like a baby.

 

 

 

 ---

 

 

 MIDNIGHT

 

 

 I crawled into the guest room.

 

 

 Jolie was fast asleep.

 

 

 I squinted at him in the dim light.

 

 

 Even in his sleep, he looked so annoyingly gorgeous.

 

 

 I bent down lower, trying not to make a sound.

 

 

 Carefully, I reached for his phone.

 

 

 Got it.

 

 

 I quickly lay on the floor and unlocked it.

 

 

 Going straight to his contacts, I searched for Luke’s number and copied it.

 

 

 Then, just as carefully, I placed his phone back where it was and crawled out of the room.

 

 

 If there’s anyone who can talk some sense into Jolie, it’s his annoying best friend.

 

 

 I dialed the number.

 

 

 It barely rang before the call connected.

 

 

 I rolled my eyes.

 

 

 He must be awake, partying as usual.

 

 

 

"Who the f**k is this?" came his deep, goofy voice.

 

 

 Yup. He’s high.

 

 

 "Hey, Luke. It’s Lola," I said.

 

 

 "Lola? Did Jolie hit you? What did that asshole do? ‘Cause I swear I’ll deal with him—"

 

 

 "No, Luke..." I sighed. "I did something."

 

 

 Silence.

 

 

 Then—

 

 

 "What?"

 

 

 

 !

 


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