“I haven’t ordered anything.” My heart stuttered. What could be in the box?
A dick in a box!
I chuckled.
“Well, are you going to open it? And don’t take for freaking ever, either,” she added.
Getting up off my bed for scissors, I took my sweet ass time to reach my office.
“Hurry the hell up!” Stace hollered from the my room.
“Put a can in it!” I returned.
My hot pink zebra-print scissors were in my desk as per usual. Coen’s Gran was my favorite person to date. She always taught me new things, and when I started scrapbooking for the first time, she bought these as a gift. I had only been twelve at the time, but they were the best thing anyone ever bought me. Now, they were worn from the million photos and paper I’d scrapped with them, but the zebra-print scissors still proved special.
“Dude, you are taking forever.” She pouted, barreling through the door. Her eyes open wide in annoyance.
“Hand it over. You act as if it’s a fucking proposal,” I chide.
Stace always knew how to be impatient. Imagine her in bed, waiting for her finish line. Boo, you whore! she probably screamed in wait.
With the bundle in hand, I cut through the tape as slow and as neatly as possible. Whoever packed it had one thing in mind, Assholiness. That might not be a real word, but it definitely rang true.
After three minutes of straight tinkering and cutting pieces of tape, the flaps reluctantly opened. The box contained an atrocious amount of tissue paper and not in full-sized scrunched-up pieces. More like fifty-fucking-million shreds shoved inside in a rainbow mess.
I dug around for any item, unsure of what exactly to search for. My fingers nick another solid object. My hands shimmy it out of its confetti-induced space. “Another box?” A laugh slipped from me. It was a bit smaller than the first. Whoever sent this had a sense of humor that I could appreciate. “Is this a joke?”
Stace shook from chuckles. She shooed me, begging me to continue this maze.
With a newfound goal, I opened it as fast as humanly possible. My scissors slicing and dicing it up until it was opened as well. Like the previous box, there sat another intricately designed box inside. The insanity of this gag gift had my stomach sore from snickering. When Stace let out a snort, I was done for.
“This person needs a fucking medal.” She clutched her stomach with flushed cheeks.
I grinned, but she was so right. This person made my day, hell, my entire year. The next box was aqua blue. It had coral polka dots scattered across and little glittery swirls all around.
“That’s the cutest box I’ve ever seen!” Stace shrieked.
“Do you think this one actually contains something?” I question with a quirk of my brow.
“If not, we’ll at least get a laugh,” Stace jested, shrugging.
The gentleness of my dissection this time around was due to the safe keeping of the box. I’d be disappointed to ruin such a pretty thing.
Inside was tinsel, that shiny shit you put on Christmas trees. After a little digging, I find a small container inside. I just knew Coen had set this whole shindig up, and it made me love him even more.
The lid slipped off, and my first reaction came as tears. Inside sat a typewriter pendant with the word princess engraved into it. The white gold shined, and my heart faltered at its beauty. My fingers traced over the pendant.
A little note caught my eye. My chest hammered as I unfolded it. Four words written out in a man’s scrawled handwriting. I love you, princess.
My breathing hitched. We hadn’t discussed this part of our relationship. In fact, ever since he’d been gone, we barely had the chance to talk about anything other than daily doses of Coen. He constantly found himself busy, which I knew would happen when he left.
This sign only made me want to see him more. He loves me. My mind raced, and the thought of spending the rest of my life with him made perfect sense. It was as if it were always meant to happen.
Your divorce isn’t even finalized, wench! my callous mind smacked me with the truth.
Well, fuck you too.
Scowling, Stacy pinched my side with a scowl.
I jumped. “What the ever-living hell?” I shouted. My best friend didn’t see my inner mind battle, and her annoyance was visible as a full-blown sketch on her face.
“Who’s it from?” she asked, making it sound like she'd asked me this already several times. Maybe she had.
“Coen,” I whisper, still in shock from the gesture. My heart squeezed with love and admiration, and like the fucking Grinch who stole Christmas, my heart grew three sizes larger.
“Aw! How freaking adorbs!” she bellowed.
“Adorbs? Really, Stace, you’re like a teenager on crack with a hooker’s body,” I joked. “It’s definitely perfect though.”
My lips parted as tears streamed my face. The reality of his gift softened my resolve and threatened to make me fall face first into a new life with only Coen. The past few weeks had been daunting and emotional, but this right here took the cake. My heart soared at his gift but then sank. We still hadn’t discussed cuntcake’s baby.
Thinking of her only made me angry. She had ruined my life more than once, and the thought that she’d have the one thing I always wanted only pissed me off more.
But Coen didn’t choose this, my heart argued.
My mind growled, His sperm rocket didn’t randomly slip into someone’s cum dumpster. It was a choice he made. He knew the consequences of his actions.
What about me?
He loves me, I continued the battle with myself. For now, there would be no easy solution to all of this.
We arrived at the restaurant, Stace more excited than I was. She jumped out of my car, dancing as if no one was watching, even though everyone did. They snapped videos and pictures.
“I can’t take you anywhere,” I said, my voice light and entertained.
“You know you couldn’t live without me.” She skipped over to me with a contagious smile.
“No, no I couldn’t.”
As we trailed inside, a woman waited, giving out name tags.
The tables were set in a large line. There’d be sixteen people total. The fifteen minutes could go really fast or really slow. My bet? Slow would be the luck of the draw.
“Feel free to take your seats, ladies,” the hostess announce to me and Stace. She waved to the secluded area in the center of the room. “You can order drinks. We have a full bar.” We got comfortable in our designated chairs, and waited for the games to begin.
A waitress, or bartender, I wasn’t entirely sure, approached us. Her long, slender legs were barely covered. She had sexy legs. Yes, I can appreciate a woman’s body.
“What can I get you ladies?” Her high-pitched voice and obnoxious gum chewing totally ruined the moment of appreciation from before.
“Rum and Dr. Pepper please,” I requested.
“Three shots of Tequila for me,” Stace chirped in.
I winked at her. “Do you plan on not remembering tonight?”
“I’m actually trying to make Conor jealous. He’s not the committing type, so I’ll be taking drunken selfies and texting him. I’ll regret it tomorrow, but who cares?” She flipped her hands up in exasperation.
“You and Conor?” I knew they were hooking up but didn’t know it had ventured further. I wanted him to pick her, and I wanted her to be happy. They were both stubborn though.