My entire body shakes as I push the door open. As soon as I step into the bedroom, my feet freeze, and I can’t move. It feels like I’ve been sucker punched in the stomach, and I can’t process what I’m seeing. I can’t move or even breathe.

My eyes are locked on the bed, where Logan is laying, still dressed in his tux. Between his legs lies a red headed woman with long wavy curls obscuring her face. She is in her bra and panties, with my fiancé’s dick in her mouth.

I finally snap back to reality and slam the door against the wall with a forceful blow that echoes across the room.

The red head sits up quickly, and Logan snaps his head towards the doorway, his eyes landing on me in a combination of panic and fear. The girl turns towards me with a smile creeping over her face, “So glad you could finally join us, Savannah.”

“What the fuck are you talking about Cara?” Logan barks at her as he sits up, fixing his pants.

I can feel the tears pooling in my eyes again, and I’m trying so hard to speak, scream, anything, but the lump in my throat will not go down. I feel like I’m about to be sick. Panic has consumed my entire body; I should have just walked away.

Why did I come into this room? I knew what I would find. I cannot believe this is actually happening to me.

A single tear streaks down my cheek. I’m finally able to mutter out a, “What?” to, I guess her name is Cara, otherwise known as the red headed slut who was just giving my fiancé of about an hour, a blow job. In a room, I thought was booked for a romantic night to celebrate our engagement, no less.

Logan looks like he should have steam pouring out of his ears, “What did you just say? I want answers, NOW!” He yells.

She turns towards him, and nonchalantly remarks, “I said it was about time Savannah got here. I sent Amanda down to the ballroom to give her the key card to the room after I sent you that naughty little text,” she says, with a devilish grin on her face. “I figured that since you’re engaged to her now, she could join in on our sexual rendezvous.”

Logan leaps off the bed runs towards me and grabs my hands. I’m frozen again, trying to process the idea that this was all set up and the fact that it’s not just tonight that my boyfriend has been with this woman.

“Savannah, it’s not what it looks like. She seduced me, preyed on my weaknesses. Please, say something!”

“You really don’t want to hear what I have to say,” I manage between breaths, my words shaky.

“Come on Logan, did you seriously think I would just sit back and continue to be your ‘fuck buddy’ once you got engaged to this bitch? You had the nerve to propose to her at the party, in front of me and who knows how many other women you’ve screwed.” Sliding into her dress, she stands and stares at Logan.

I am frozen as I take in the scene unfolding before me. I can’t believe the things I’m hearing right now. My head is spinning as her words hit me like a brick; Logan’s been sleeping with her and other women from his agency.

Resting her hands on hips, her smile fades and her eyes turn dark and cold. “I knew right then and there that I was going to make you hurt as much as I was hurting, so…I booked this hotel room, and asked Amanda to help me get Savannah up here. I knew as soon as I sent you a picture of me here, ready and willing to fuck your brains out; you would come running back to me. Your predictability and weakness for sex helped me make this plan a reality.”

“You...stupid…Bitch!” Before I can even blink Logan is in her face, and I’m scared of what he’ll do. I’ve never witnessed him be violent with any woman before, but he is so angry right now, that there is no telling what he was capable of.

Anger is boiling over inside of me and I snap. I can’t listen to another word either of them has to say.

“STOP IT!” I scream at them. “I don’t care who did what tonight. I loved you Logan, and to know that you could ever do something like this to me…it’s…it’s unbearable!” I take a few more steps into the room, walking towards him and Cara. I look her in the eyes with such intensity that if looks could kill that bitch would be on the floor. “You want him so bad, you can have him. I’m. Done.”

I grab the ring that Logan gave me: the one that was supposed to symbolize love, trust and commitment, when in reality it was nothing but a fancy ploy to cover up his lies and betrayals. I yank it off of my finger and toss it at his chest.

He catches it and stuttering his words, begins to plead for me to wait and give him a chance to explain. I’d heard and witnessed enough in the last five minutes to seal our fate for a lifetime. I’m done with Logan Sanders.

As I walk out of the bedroom, I vow to never set myself up for this kind of heartbreak again. With tears running down my cheeks in rapid streams, I run to the elevator, pressing the button frantically and pleading with it to open. I hear Logan yelling my name down the hallway as he runs toward me, and I close my eyes in an attempt to drown out the sound of his voice. A voice I cherished until about five minutes ago. A voice that now causes instant nausea to wash over my body.

The doors finally open, and I jump inside, pressing the button for the lobby. Just before they close, Logan appears, pressing his hand against the doors, and forcing them to stay open.

His breath is erratic, and his face flushed, “Please Savannah, don’t do this…don’t run away from me. We can talk about this. I’ll do anything to fix this, just please don’t go.”

I don’t know what comes over me, but before I know it, my hand is cracking against his right cheek with a loud slapping sound that echoes throughout the small elevator.

My hand must be burning, yet with the adrenaline and pain of the night, I feel little more than a tingling sensation. Logan’s eyes grow wide and his mouth slides open, but nothing is coming out.

“Goodbye Logan” I manage to spit out, as I shove him away from the doors. To my surprise, he stays back and watches the doors shut in front of him.

I lean against the wall and slowly slide to the floor, pull my knees up to my chest and drop my purse and shoes to the floor with a thud. Wrapping my arms around my knees, I cry the entire ride. My shoulders are shaking vigorously as I sob for what feels like an eternity.

Finally, the elevator comes to a stop, and the doors slide open. I slowly climb to my feet, grab my shoes and purse from the floor, wipe away my tears, smooth my hair and try to regain my composure.

As I step out into the hallway, I’m grateful to see the lustful couple from earlier have departed. I look around, but there is only a bellhop. Everyone is back in the ballroom, drinking, dancing and mingling without a care in the world.

I stand in the entrance of the place Logan, and I first met, where he proposed to me and then betrayed me, and now the place our relationship ended. Forever. Who knew one building could hold so many good and bad memories at the same time?

When I arrive home, I’m relieved to notice that Brooklyn is still out partying. I don’t feel like talking to anyone right now; all I want to do is curl up into a ball and disappear. Today went from being the most amazing day of my life to the worst, in a matter of just a few hours.

How could I be so completely and utterly stupid? How could I not know that Logan was cheating on me? I don’t even want to know how many women there have been.

Now all the odd behavior from tonight is starting to piece together and make complete sense. All of the models from Logan’s agency giving me death glares the entire evening. I can pretty much guess that he’s slept with every single one of them.

Thank God we always used protection; who knows what kind of diseases any of them could have. I shiver just thinking about the possibilities.

That Cara girl did me a favor. At least I found out now and not after we were married, or heaven forbid, started a family. Would he have always been this way? Deceitful and unable to commit to monogamy.

Did he plan on marrying me and continuing to have numerous affairs with all of these women? Would he have always had the desire to have sexual relations with other women?

I don’t understand if it’s just about sex. I was more than willing to have sex with him anytime he wanted to.

He’s the one who always seemed distant, only getting together during the week for lunch dates and only being together intimately on the weekends. Was it because he was sleeping with all these other women during the week that he had no desire to be intimate with me? Had he kissed them passionately, and made love to them the way he did with me?

My stomach is starting to knot up again, and my lips begin to feel dirty. I wipe forcefully at them in an illogical attempt to rid myself of all the pain Logan has caused me.

Just thinking of all the women he has kissed while with me…it’s sickening. I jump up and run to the bathroom, making it to the toilet just in time. I throw up violently until my eyes throb; my throat burns and my stomach feels completely empty.

I quickly undress and toss my dress across the bathroom before turning on the shower so hot, it’s almost scalding. I needed to wash away the filth that I feel all over my body. The way Logan has made me feel: dirty, used and betrayed…I don’t know if I can ever get rid of this feeling.

I stand under the water, scrubbing my body profusely until my skin is raw, and slowly slide to the floor of the bathtub as the water beats down on my head. I could barely tell the difference between tears and water as they drizzle over my body and wash down the drain. I remain like this until the water turns cool.

I fall asleep as soon as my head hits the pillow, but toss and turn all night, unable to get the images of Logan and that woman out of my head. I can hear her laugh echoing in my head, tormenting me. I finally fall into a deep, dreamless sleep around six in the morning, wishing I would never wake up.

~~~

The front door closes and wakes me. I hear Brooklyn’s heels clicking across the living room floor, and I hold my breath as I listen to her walk around the house. I finally let my breath out when her bedroom door closes.

I look at my clock to see it’s almost noon; she must’ve stayed out all night. This works out well for me because she’ll sleep the entire day, giving me time to try and wrap my head around everything that happened last night. I don’t think I can handle talking to her right now.

I grab my phone from my nightstand and turn it on. I had turned it off in a cab last night, as Logan was continuously calling and texting me. I discovered quickly; he was not giving up on reaching me. I had twenty text messages, twelve voice mails, numerous emails to my Facebook, Twitter and my personal email inbox.

I don’t want to hear or read any of his excuses and apologies, so I delete everything without giving it a second thought.

I instantly regret turning my laptop on. As soon as my internet opened up I see the news headlines are filled with “Breaking News” announcing my engagement to Logan Sanders. Pictures from last night are plastered all over the internet, with me looking so shocked, excited, and in love.

When I log into my Facebook, my notifications are flooded with wall posts of congratulations. The whole situation just went from bad to worse, as I realize I’ll have to make a statement to the press about the engagement being called off.

Nothing in my life can ever just be private!

I slam my laptop closed and begin repeatedly punching my pillow. Shoving my face into it, I scream until my lungs ache.

“Screw you, Logan Sanders! All your stupid sluts, too.” I scream into the pillow, banging my fist repeatedly onto my mattress and trying my best to let out my frustrations without alerting Brooklyn, who’s only a few feet away. “I hate you! I fucking hate you for doing this to me!”

I continue to scream for a good five minutes, until my throat’s hoarse. I feel a small amount of relief wash over my body from releasing the pent up frustrations, even if it wasn’t actually at Logan to whom every word was intended.

I spend the rest of the afternoon sitting outside on our patio, drinking an entire bottle of wine. It’s almost seven by the time Brooklyn comes strolling out, finding me drowning my sorrows. I’m just finishing my last glass of wine and feel thoroughly trashed, even more so than I did last night on six glasses of champagne.

“Brooklyn…I am sooo happy you are finally up; now I don’t have to drink alone.” I slur at her, as I lay sprawled out on the outdoor lounge.

“What the hell happened to you? Did aliens come down and invade your brain, Savannah? You look utterly fucked-up right now,” Brooklyn blurts out, as she runs over to where I’m sitting plopping down at the foot of the lounge. “Why are you downing an entire bottle of wine? You never drink this much…EVER.” I see panic consuming her eyes as she stares into mine.

“Well if you insist on knowing, I got engaged to Los Angeles' biggest man whore last night,” I wave my wine glass around in front of me, dramatically pointing towards the Los Angeles skyline that’s twinkling in the night sky in front of us. “My romantic night turned out to be…well, not so romantic…I guess you could say.”

“What the hell are you talking about, Savannah? What happened last night? What do you mean you’re now engaged to the Los Angeles’ biggest man whore? You have my head spinning; I need answers...now! No riddles Savannah; just spit it out already. You’re seriously scaring me!”

She runs her fingers through her hair, and looks like she’s about to pounce on me if I don’t tell her what’s going on as soon as possible.

I pull myself up on the lounge and fold my legs behind me. Running my finger around the brim of my wine glass, I tell Brooklyn everything.

It actually feels exhilarating to get everything out there in the open for her to hear. Having all this pain from last night bottled up inside was tearing me apart.

No amount of wine could numb the pain I was going through. The man I had loved and planned on spending the rest of my life with betrayed me, ripped my heart out of my chest, and stomped on it repeatedly.

When everything is hanging in the air and Brooklyn has processed what happened, she just sits there in a daze in front of me. She closes her eyes and drops her chin to her chest. It’s rising and falling quickly, and I know she’s trying to keep herself calm, to be strong for me.

I’m blessed to have her as my friend; I don’t even want to know what life would be like without her in it. It’s hard enough losing Logan, but I think losing her would be unbearable. Finally, after what feels like an eternity, she looks up at me with the most terrifying look I’ve ever seen on her face.

“I’m going to kill that son of a bitch. He thinks he can sleep with any little tramp that will spread her legs, while he’s professing his love to you? What the fuck is wrong with him? Proposing to you last night in a room full of women he has had sex with, while he was with you? He is screwed up; he literally has to have mental issues! I’m going to go to his suite, chop his dick off and force feed it to him.”

“Brooklyn, I appreciate your wanting to seek revenge on Logan for this, but it is not worth our time or energy. I would love nothing more than to castrate him…believe me, I would. But it won’t help the pain go away. I want to forget he ever existed. It’s so hard because everything I do, everything I hear and see reminds me of him.”

I can feel tears trickling down my face, one after another, and part of me can’t believe I have any tears left in me to cry.

Brooklyn reaches across the lounge, wraps me in her arms, pets my hair and cries into my neck. We sit there for almost half an hour, just holding each other and crying. I’m grateful to her for being here for me, listening to me vent, and letting me get everything out of my system.

We talk the rest of the night while curled up on the couch and watching reality TV on-demand; it’s exactly what I needed.

We discuss what I’m going to do about the press and telling my parents. I’m terrified to tell my mom and dad, especially my dad. He’ll most definitely go all ‘southern’ on Logan’s ass, driving to his suite and shoving a twelve-gauge shotgun in his face, and threatening to blow his head off his shoulders for breaking his little girl’s heart. The idea makes me smile; it’s the first time I’ve smiled since yesterday evening.

Brooklyn suggests I tell my parents and have their PR team handle the press. Then, I can just write a small statement saying the engagement has been called off, and it’s a personal matter; which I do not wish to discuss. Giving the press any other information would just lead to them hunting down Logan and his models, meaning I would have to deal with seeing my personal life plastered all over gossip magazines for the world to see.

~~~

Logan tries to contact me every day for the entire week, trying to get me to agree to see him. He wouldn’t take a hint; he even came to our house and pounded at our door, begging for me to let him in and give him a chance to explain.

Brooklyn took much joy in threatening to have his ass arrested for harassment if he tried to come here again. She is my rock right now; the only thing keeping me from falling apart completely.

I stay off my laptop because I can’t bear to read all the congratulatory emails I’ve been receiving from everyone. They were just another painful reminder of Logan’s betrayal.

I call my parents on Tuesday following a voice mail from my mother that threatened to come to my house if I didn’t call her back. I guess Logan has shown up at theirs earlier today, pleading with my mother to talk some sense into me and let him try to fix things.

I know for a fact he wouldn’t have told her the whole truth. If my mother knew for a second that he’d cheated on me, especially moments after proposing, he wouldn’t be breathing right now, let alone convincing her to call me on his behalf.

I tell her everything he has done. Well, everything I gathered from what that Cara girl said in the hotel room and from what I had witnessed Saturday night. I tell her about the phone calls, text messages and emails from him and how I had deleted them all without reading. I was finished with him, and there was nothing he could say or do to change my mind.

He made his bed, and he can damn well lay in it and suffer for all I cared. I have no sympathy for him and the heartache he brought upon himself. She sat on the other end of the phone, not saying a word. She was speechless; something I had never before witnessed.

I repeatedly yell into the phone for her to say something, and she finally does, “I’m so sorry. So, so sorry, Savannah. I would have never pushed for you two to be together had I known he was like this. He always seemed like a responsible, respectful, intelligent young man.” She sobs.

I hate that she was hurt; Logan didn’t realize that he was not only hurting me but everyone around us.

“Mom, please don’t cry.” I beg her. It’s tearing me up inside hearing her cry for me. I sit on my bed and trace the zebra stripes on my comforter with my finger tip, trying something…anything to keep me from falling apart again. The last thing I want to do is shed more tears over him. I’m all cried out, and my eyes feel like they need to be iced because they ache so much.

“I’m sorry honey, the last thing I want to do is upset you. Your father is pulling in from the meeting with our tour manager. We leave Thursday for NYC to kick off the new tour. Oh no, that’s in two days. I hate to leave you while you’re tryin’ to deal with all of this.”

She continues to sob into the phone, and I can hear her trying to calm her breathing to a regular rate. Tears begin to run down my cheeks. Don’t cry…don’t cry, I plead over and over in my head as I squeeze my eyes shut. I mimic my mom’s deep breathing pattern, trying to calm myself down too.

“I have to go. Are ya gonna be okay Savannah? I’ll talk to your father for you, so you don’t have to rehash this all over again. I’ll call Juliette in the mornin’ and have her prepare a statement to release to the press for you. I love you honey; if you need anything’ just call me.”

I can hear my father talking in the background, and asking her why she was so upset. I quickly say goodbye and get off the phone. I’m grateful she would handle telling my father; I just want to forget this ever happened. Explaining to people just reopens wounds I’m trying so hard to heal.

I take Monday and Tuesday off work, having explained everything to Eloise on Monday morning. She told me to take all the time I needed. Everything she needed me to work on she emailed to me. It was nice having the distraction to help keep my mind off Logan.