One Week Hating You Read online

  One Week Hating You

  Roya Carmen

  One Week Hating You

  * * *

  Roya Carmen

  * * *

  One Week Hating You © Roya Carmen, 2018

  All rights reserved. Except as permitted under the U.S. Copyright Act of 1976. Copyright property of the author. No part of this content may be reproduced or distributed for commercial or non-commercial purposes without prior written permission from the publisher.

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters and locations are either the product of the author’s imagination, or used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual people, living or dead, events or locales, is purely coincidental.

  Cover design and formatting: Calico Images

  Editing: Emily Keel

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  Created with Vellum

  Contents

  Blurb

  Prologue

  Part I

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Part II

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Chapter 25

  Chapter 26

  Chapter 27

  Chapter 28

  Chapter 29

  Chapter 30

  Part III

  Chapter 31

  Chapter 32

  Chapter 33

  Chapter 34

  Chapter 35

  Chapter 36

  Chapter 37

  Chapter 38

  Chapter 39

  Chapter 40

  Chapter 41

  Epilogue

  A note from the author:

  About the Author

  Also by Roya Carmen

  The Ground Rules - Excerpt - Chapter One

  Acknowledgements

  To all those who have yearned for a new beginning, new experiences, and a new life. May you wander and find where you truly belong.

  Blurb

  One Week Hating You

  A love hate story.

  Maeve Gallagher is over the moon: she has a job she loves, great friends, and she’s getting married to Peter, the man of her dreams. But when she loses her job and gets jilted at the altar, her world crumbles, and she runs to drown her sorrows in her mother’s arms.

  She’s back in her small hometown for a week. And she has a plan – make Peter insanely jealous and win him back.

  Enter Blake Taylor, her first love, the boy who broke her heart. She’d rather avoid him at all costs, but with his ‘bad boy’ good looks and their shared history, Blake is the perfect man for the job, as long as she can stand him long enough – it’s just one week, after all. She’ll show Peter that she’s not the sweet wallflower he thinks she is, and he’ll come running back soon enough.

  But when he does, will she still want him?

  Prologue

  August, 2007

  * * *

  “When one door closes, another opens; but we often look so long and so regretfully upon the closed door that we do not see the one which has opened for us.” - Alexander Graham Bell

  Dear Journal,

  Well, I finally slammed that door in Blake’s face for good. And I’m not going to stare at that stupid door and cry in my pillow. No, I’ll march forward and open some new doors. It’s been a long time coming. This time I’m not going back to him. I’m tired of this roller coaster. We’re toxic to each other.

  Every time I look at him, my insides still melt, but he hurts me so much. He keeps pushing me away, and reeling me back in, like I’m one of his shiny fishing lures. I just can’t take this anymore.

  I’m so over him. He’s my past, and I’m ready for my future, a life somewhere far away. I’m ready to leave this stupid town, with its pathetic little Main Street, mosquitoes, and the constant fish smell floating in the air. Everywhere you turn, there’s someone in your face. “How are you, Maeve? Are you and Blake still an item? You two are so adorable together. I saw him with Sandy Miller, and I wasn’t sure…”

  Ugh… yes, he was with Sandy all right, and a few others too. I’m so glad I never gave myself to him. I know I would have regretted it forever. I wanted to… so many times, but something told me we weren’t ready. Well, I wasn’t anyway. He sure was. I guess that’s why he did what he did with Tessa.

  Prom night was it… the last straw. I’d been looking forward to prom all year. Everything was perfect. The dress was flawless; a bustier top and pretty flowy skirt in sheer pink chiffon with pretty embroidery and matching sparkly sandals. Blake even got me a pretty corsage for my wrist. I have a feeling that his sister and his mom had a little something to do with that.

  He looked so handsome in his tux. He was smiling when I slowly made my way down the stairs, and looked at me like I was the prettiest girl he’d ever seen. In that moment, I thought that we might be able to make this work. I pictured us married, with two or three little ones. Just for a second, I allowed myself to go there.

  It started out okay, but as the night passed, as we all got a little tipsy, he pulled from me again. I danced with my friends and told myself that boys just don’t like prom. He drank more and more, and he drew farther and farther. I knew he was drinking himself into a stupor again, and I went to look for him. When I found him pressed against Tessa McClean, his mouth on hers, a hand up the short skirt of her slutty fuchsia dress, I knew this was it. I knew we were done.

  I’m going to miss my family so much, but I have no other choice. I can’t simply walk away from Blake – he lives next door, and my best friend, Mandy, just happens to be his twin sister. And if that weren’t enough, his older brother is engaged to my big sister. Everywhere I turn, he’s there. I’ll never get over him if I don’t get away.

  And obviously, there’s more to it than Blake. I’ll always be reminded of what happened to Daddy if I don’t run far away. I miss him every single day. I miss his silly jokes, those big green eyes of his, and that crazy red hair, the way he owned a room as soon as he walked into it. Blake is a lot like that too.

  Every single day, Daddy would give me a hug and tousle my hair. “What’s up today, Maevy baby?” he’d ask with that playful grin. I miss watching Seinfeld reruns with him, whipping up some pancakes together on Saturday mornings, and fishing on lazy Sunday afternoons.

  Every time I look at Blake, I think of Daddy. He’s like him in so many ways, but it’s not just that – just the sight of Blake reminds me of what happened. And although I know it’s impossible, I want to pretend that cold February day never happened. I want to escape far away, and pretend Daddy is at home, sitting in his favorite chair, doing his crossword puzzles, fishing, mowing the lawn, shoveling snow, and driving Momma crazy with his usual shenanigans.

  I need to walk away from it all. This scholarship is my opportunity for a new life… a new start. University of Vermont is a good school, and I’m looking forward to a career in business or fashion. I’m looking forward to opening all those new doors, meeting new people, living new experiences, stepping out of m
y comfort zone, and becoming a little more adventurous.

  I don’t know if I’ll ever find someone again. I don’t even care at this point. I just want to get away, and turn the page.

  I want to start a new chapter.

  Later, Journal.

  M

  Part I

  1

  Late September… Maeve’s wedding.

  * * *

  I HAVEN’T ALWAYS LIKED my reflection. Growing up, I felt so different. I suppose it wouldn’t have been a big deal if I had grown up in a large city, surrounded by diversity. But in the small fishing town where I came of age, my family and I definitely stood out.

  Over the years, I’ve received countless compliments… beautiful, unique, stunning, exotic… Yet, there has always been a small part of me who wished I looked like everyone else.

  I used to hate the smattering of freckles on my nose and cheeks, but now they remind me of my dad, as do the red highlights in my hair. He’s still with us, through me. I’ve worn my hair up; pretty curls frame my face and little white flowers hide the intricate twists of my locks. The hairdresser did an amazing job – it’s almost a shame to hide it all under my veil.

  I draw a long breath, and study the curve of my body in my gown. As I study the dress; a sheer chiffon gown with delicate embroidery and a bustier top, it dawns on me that the dress I’ve chosen to wear on my wedding day is very similar to my prom dress – the prom from hell. My prom dress was a soft pink, and the skirt was a little shorter, but the styles and materials are very similar.

  Well, hopefully this day will go better.

  “God, you look gorgeous,” Corrie says. She doesn’t look too bad herself – the bridesmaid dress I picked out looks fantastic on her.

  Marilyn toys with my hair again, pulls at the curls framing my face. I swat her hand away. “Enough.”

  “What? It’s a big sister’s job to fuss,” she says with a smirk. “I love your hair curly.”

  “I know you do.” Marilyn wears her crazy curls proudly, always has. I, on the other hand, struggle to tame them, as if I’m ashamed of them. I’m really not. I just love to wear my hair straight, just like I prefer my clothes pressed, my nails painted, and my shoes shiny. I’m a bit of a prissy gal, if truth be told.

  “The stylist did an amazing job,” Mandy chimes in. “I like your hair up like that.”

  I stare at our reflection in the vanity table mirror. Every time I look at her, I see her brother. She and Blake share those big almond shaped brown eyes; dark melted chocolate eyes. I can’t help but think about him today. I know he won’t be here, and if he dared to show up, I think I just might kill him. Mandy is here with her friend, Jessie, today. I know Jessie, but not too well.

  Mandy fusses with my veil. “Tell Jessie the story of how Peter proposed again. I never get tired of hearing it.”

  I smile. Mandy is such a small town girl – she loves my modern-day Cinderella story. I grin playfully. “Well, it goes like this…” I start. I know everyone has already heard it; my bridesmaids Corrie, Kayla and Gabbie, my three best friends. I’m lucky to be surrounded by my favorite six women in the whole world; my four best friends, my big sis, and my mom.

  “He drove me, blindfolded, to a secret location…”

  Mandy smiles mischievously. “A red silk scarf… very Fifty Shades.”

  The room breaks into laughter. “The drive seemed to take forever, and I was so curious, begging him to tell me where we were going. Then finally, he pulled me out of the car, and had me standing in the cold. When he peeled off the scarf, I saw a fabulous private jet. Two pilots in white uniforms and pilot caps.”

  Jessie’s mouth is hanging. “Wow. Where did you go?”

  “Where else?” I say. “New York.”

  “What did you do?” Jessie asks, riveted.

  I feel like a princess. I feel special. Peter has always made me feel that way. “We did a little shopping, caught a few shows, ate at some nice restaurants, stayed at the Edison… and made love every night,” I add with a shy smile.

  “So how did he ask?”

  I smile at the memory of that beautiful autumn day – it was perfection. “We took a stroll in Central Park, and he pulled me over to a bench, shot me the most wicked smile, and got down on one knee.”

  “Wow,” she says again. “I’m sure you were happy with the ring… that rock is the biggest I’ve ever seen.”

  I gaze down at my hand. Yes, the ring is a little much, but that’s Peter for you. He always needs to go big. Everything is a grand production, but I kind of like that about him.

  Jessie seems enthralled with my small-town-girl-makes-good story. “So, does Peter have a private jet?”

  I laugh. “No, it was his boss’s. It was a favor.”

  Mandy chuckles. “Nice boss.”

  “Almost ready?” Sylvia, the wedding planner, breaks in. “All the guests have arrived.”

  “Almost,” I tell her. “I still need to slip on my shoes.” My stomach is all topsy-turvy, and I feel a little light headed. I don’t think I’ve ever been so nervous. There’s a room full of people out there, waiting for little old me to walk down the aisle. It’s hard to believe I’m still the same girl who used to jump in puddles and chase frogs. I’m a princess now, and I think it suits me better. If only Blake could see me now.

  I look for the beautiful shoes I spent a small fortune on; pointy silky pumps with pretty ribbon ties. “Where are my shoes?” I dig into my oversized bag, and peek under the skirted vanity chair. They’re nowhere to be seen.

  I start to panic when Kayla swoops in, shoes dangling from one manicured hand. “They’re here,” she calls out. “You left them in the washroom.”

  “Oh, thank you.” I let out a long breath as I grab the shoes. Crisis averted.

  Sylvia comes back, flustered, but I’m not too concerned because that’s just her way – I think all wedding planners are born flustered. “Okay, the groom’s not here yet, but it’s all good. This will give me the chance to put final touches on a few things.”

  I’m surprised. It’s not like Peter to be late. He’s always usually so punctual – it’s one of the things I love about him. Blake used to always be late, like other people’s time didn’t matter. I always found it so disrespectful. I’m sure that Peter has a good excuse. There must have been a mishap. Maybe, he misplaced his shoes too.

  Mandy is grinning widely. “Everyone’s here. This is so exciting.” She hasn’t mentioned Blake so I assume he’s not here. A tiny part of me is disappointed. I know it makes no sense because I really don’t want him here. I guess I just want him to see how far I’ve come along. I want him to see me with Peter, to show him that I’m over him, that I’ve moved on and made a fabulous life here.

  I suppose what I really want to do is… stick it to him.

  I honestly don’t know why I still care.

  I take a seat on the pretty loveseat, and slip on the shoes. I press down the folds of my skirt, and study my manicured hands and the gigantic ring on my finger. I’m brought back to the day he proposed, and all those other special moments. The first time he took me to a baseball game, the picnic under that big oak on our second date. The first time we made love at that little Inn – I was still a virgin, and he was certainly very patient. I knew I loved him then.

  We were full of hopes and dreams back then. I was going to be a rock star in the fashion world, and he was going to be an architect – he got a little closer than I did. He has a good job as an Architectural Technologist, and I worked as a manager at a kids’ clothing store, until last week. I loved it there, but business hasn’t been going well. With all the big box stores taking over, the small shops are having a tough time, and Romper Room Fashions had to let me go. I was pretty down about it, but thankfully this wedding has been a great distraction. I’ll find another job soon enough I’m sure. And I still have Peter, my family and my friends.

  Maddie and Jake are running around, like kids do. They’re having a blast playing wi
th Gabbie’s kids. Maddie is precious in her junior Bridesmaid dress. And Jake is handsome in his little tux. They were over the moon when I asked them to be in my wedding.

  “You want us to walk with you in the church, auntie Maeve?” Maddie asked, beaming. “Do I get to wear a pretty dress?”

  “Of course you do,” I told her. “And Jake also gets to wear a suit.”

  Sabrina, the flower girl, is getting antsy. She’s tugging at the hem of her flower girl dress, and fiddling with her little up-do. “Don’t do that, sweetie,” her mom (Peter’s sister, Myra) says in hushed tones. “You’ll wreck your pretty hair.”

  Sabrina scowls at her, and I smile. How can you expect a six-year-old to understand the concepts of hairdos and dressing up for weddings? I’m sure she’s just tired of waiting.

  So am I. I check my watch – it’s the beautiful Bulova watch Peter got me for my twenty-fifth birthday. I never take it off.

  He’s fifteen minutes late. It’s so unlike him.