Game Changer by Kelly Jamieson Page 0,23

a grip, girl. If you’re going to share this room with him, you can’t be getting all horned up over him.

And what the hell is up with that? I’m still in love with my ex-fiancé. I mean, I have to be, right? I was ready to marry him two days ago.

Then he let me down in the worst possible way. Showed me who he really is. How could I love a man who would do that?

I shake off these thoughts to change into my swimsuit. I also bought a cover-up, a loose, lightweight caftan. I slide my feet into flip-flops and pack my bag, then make my way down to the pool.

It’s a gorgeous day, the sky a clear blue bowl above, the sun bright and hot. I stroll around the pool area and pick out a lounger to station myself at for the day. There are thick towels on a rack, and I pick up a couple of them for when I’m ready to take a dip in that delicious-looking pool.

I make note of the Agave Bar and Grill where I can grab a snack and drinks later as I spray sunscreen all over myself. My skin is pale and freckly and there’s no way I can spend even an hour in the sun without SPF 50, so I’m always careful about using protection.

I settle onto the lounger with my magazine, flipping through the glossy pages. An article about how to deal with problems with coworkers distracts me for a while, but then my thoughts drift back to Steve.

It’s hard not to feel like a failure. I couldn’t even hold a man long enough to get married to him. I can’t help but wonder why he turned to someone else. Why wasn’t I enough for him?

I remind myself that he’s the one who cheated. He’s the one with the character flaw, not me. But still…it’s hard not to feel like maybe it was my fault. That I wasn’t good enough.

I’ve had relationships in the past. A high school boyfriend I stayed with for three years even though near the end I felt like we were friends more than lovers. I can see now that I was comfortable with him and reluctant to break free. I dated a few guys in college, one turned into a year-long relationship that was…well, unhealthy. He had a lot of issues and was afraid of commitment and strung me along for a long time. And I let him. I vowed I’d never let another guy treat me that way. After that, I had lots of guy friends, men I liked, who were fun to spend time with, but they always treated me like a sister or a friend.

I can’t deny that troubled me and I wondered if I’d ever find someone who’d love me as more than a friend.

Then I met Steve.

He was like a rock star—rich, famous, talented. I couldn’t believe he was interested in me. I fell hard for him, and there was no doubt in my mind when he asked me to marry him.

And look what happened.

So yeah…I’m wondering if something’s wrong with me.

I lay my head down and close my eyes. That’s a depressing thought. And I don’t want to be depressed.

I guess I could have pretended I didn’t know about the cheating and gotten married anyway. Or I could have confronted Steve privately and maybe we could have figured things out.

Deep inside, though, I know I couldn’t have done that. I may have self-doubts, but I have enough self-esteem that I won’t put up with a man who cheats on me. I’m going to be fine.

I spend the day giving myself pep talks, swimming in the pool and drying off in the sun. I luxuriate in the warmth and the beautiful vistas around me of palm trees, bright flowers and tropical plants. I eat at the snack bar, avocado toast enjoyed with a margarita. In the afternoon, I’m joined at the pool by some people my age. They’re not wearing swimsuits, but business casual attire, I’d call it—two women, three men. We exchange smiles and strike up a conversation and I learn they’re here for the software convention.

One of the guys keeps looking at me, his smile open and friendly…maybe a little flirty? It’s been a while since I’ve been the object of attention like that. It’s kind of fun, so I smile back and we get into some teasing banter.

“I’m going to get another margarita,” I say, standing.