Chapter 1

While playing Truth or Dare, someone asked me about the most disgusting thing my ex ever did.

I took a sip of my drink and played it cool. "My ex? He pretended to be broke for two whole years while we were dating.

"When I finally found out and confronted him, he got all high and mighty and said, 'You're happy, aren't you? A girl from your background? Dating me is like hitting the jackpot. You should be thanking your lucky stars.'"

After I finished, my eyes started to sting for some reason.

My coworkers could tell I was putting on a brave face, so they started roasting my ex for me.

"How did he keep up the act for that long? Did he think he was filming some kind of reality show about being poor?"

"What the hell? He's got some nerve acting all superior. Being broke was his persona, but being a scumbag? That's just who he is."

"Good for you for dumping him. He's such a walking red flag. And he said dating him was your jackpot? Oh honey, he knew exactly what he was. A total piece of trash."

They kept going, each one more savage than the last.

I took another sip.

Honestly, I thought they were going way too easy on him.

The booze was probably getting to me.

I started to regret it.

I regretted not slapping Edward Pierce right across his face back then.

*****

I had no idea how many drinks I'd had.

I stood up, planning to hit the restroom.

But as soon as I got to my feet, the room started spinning, and my legs felt like jelly.

One of my coworkers, worried, reached out to steady me.

I waved her off and strode out, acting all nonchalant.

Once I stepped out of the private room, it hit me that I was totally wasted.

The hallway lights were all blurry and spinning in front of my eyes.

Still, I didn't care. I kept humming to myself, all the way to the restroom and back.

And then, I saw a familiar figure standing at the end of the hallway.

I remembered that sharp nose, chiseled jawline, and side profile.

I wondered, 'Why did he... look so much like Edward?'

I squinted, staring at him for a few seconds.

Then, I knew there was no doubt about it.

This was Edward, the jerk who pretended to be broke, fooled me for two years, and dared to say I was lucky to be with him.

"Damn asshole," I muttered under my breath.

Before my brain could catch up, I was already charging straight at him.

With a smack, I slapped him hard across the face, the sound ringing out, sharp and clear.

He clutched his cheek, eyes wide in disbelief as he stared at me.

I leaned in, staring at his face, and the more I looked, the more something felt off.

I thought, 'Wait, his skin... looks way smoother than I remember. Oh, so that's it.'

I crossed my arms, my voice dripping with sarcasm.

"Well, well, it's been three years, and you look younger. What, did you get some beauty treatments done?" I said.

But it turned out that I'd gotten the wrong person.

The consequences of my impulse were way worse than I imagined.

The guy called the cops.

For those ten or so minutes while we waited for the cops, the cold hallway air hit my face, sobering me up fast.

A coworker rushed over, her eyes wide in shock. "Sophie, did you really hit him?"

I nodded, feeling a wave of regret wash over me.

Figured alcohol really did give cowards courage.

I went and slapped someone.