The Novel Free

Undeniable Love





No. I didn’t. Not for a damn mirror. I began gnawing on my lower lip as I thought about it. I wasn’t sure why I was even entertaining the thought. There was no way I would ever pay that much for a stupid mirror. No matter how beautiful it was.



“Let me put you out of the internal struggle. That gentleman over there has already stated he wanted to buy it.”



Turning and looking over my shoulder, I saw him. “Motherfucker,” I whispered as my eyes landed on Tristan.



“Um . . .”



Looking back at the young saleslady, I covered my mouth. “I’m so sorry; I didn’t mean to say that.”



Chuckling, she held up her hands. “No problem, but I’m going to guess you know him? Or you really wanted that mirror.”



Laughing, I said, “Both.” Reaching up, I took the mirror off the wall. The saleslady’s eyes grew bigger. “Go with me on this.”



Not even giving her time to answer me, I began walking up to the register with the mirror as the poor girl walking briskly behind me said, “Um, ma’am. Ma’am, you can’t have it.”



“Oh my goodness. I can’t believe I found the perfect mirror. I’m just so overjoyed.”



Tristan turned and looked at me. He smiled at first, until he saw the mirror in my hands. The older gentleman who had been helping Tristan stood there stunned.



Men. I swear.



“My mother is going to love this.” Looking at the lady behind the counter, I turned my smile to a somber look. “She’s so sick and this will just make her feel so much better.” Acting as if I was going to start crying, I said, “We’re not even sure she will make it through . . . the holidays.” I dropped my head and acted as if I was crying.



The young sales lady placed her hand on my shoulder. “Oh my goodness, I’m so sorry.”



Peeking up, I stole a look at Tristan. His mouth was gaped open and he looked shocked as hell. Wiping away my fake tears, I smiled at the girl behind the counter.



“Thank you so much. Anywho, I’ll take the mirror and send her a picture. She’ll be so happy. Especially knowing it was made by a local artist here in her beloved South Padre.



“Oh. My. God.”



I looked at Tristan. “Tristan? What are you doing here?”



Narrowing his eyes at me, he looked at the mirror. “Buying a mirror.”



The gentleman helping Tristan cleared his throat. “Ma’am, I’m afraid that mirror . . .”



I interrupted him. “Is perfect!” Looking at the girl standing there, I lifted my shoulders and smiled bigger. “Isn’t it? Momma is going to be so happy.” I attempted to hold back my fake sob. “Here’s my credit card.”



Handing her my credit card, she just stared at me. I jerked my hand toward her again, as if she hadn’t noticed me holding my card out to her.



“Ryn, your damn mother isn’t sick. You can’t even stand your mother. When was the last time you talked to her?”



Ignore him, Ryn.



“You don’t have to wrap it up, sweetheart. I’ll take it just like that.” The poor girl at the counter snapped her eyes to the gentleman who was helping Tristan.



“And, you’re mother has never even been to fucking South Padre!”



Pulling my head back, I gasped. “Oh my, is it necessary to use such language?”



Placing my hand up to the side of my mouth, I leaned closer to the girl. “He doesn’t like me very much and does anything he can to give me trouble. Can we speed this up a bit please?”



Pointing to the girl, Tristan shouted, “No! That is my mirror. I saw it first, and Bill here was just about to ring me up.”



I placed my hands on my hips. “I don’t see your name written on it. If it had been sold there should have been a sold sticker on it. As far as I’m concerned it was hanging on the wall, ready to be bought by someone who has far better taste than you.”



“Ryn, watch it.”



“You don’t scare me. Man whore!”



Stepping around the counter, the gentleman put his hand up to me. “Ma’am, the gentleman is right. I’m in the middle of his transaction. The mirror is not for sale.”



Turning, I looked down at Bill’s nametag. Shit. He was the manager.



Lifting my shoulders, I looked back at Tristan. “Fine. Hang it somewhere you’ll be able to see all the bitches you bring home to screw.”



Hurt flashed across Tristan’s eyes, but I didn’t care. Turning on my heels, I headed to the door.



Ugh. I hate him. He even gets the stupid mirror I wanted but didn’t really want because it was too expensive. I just wanted to keep Tristan from buying it. Ohmygod. How pathetic am I?
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