Our Love Story

Perfect.

Am I putting a lot of expectation on one experience? Maybe.

But there has been so much in my life I haven’t had control over.

This one thing, I do.

“There’s no such thing as a perfect first time. You’re holding your virginity over me like it’s a goddamn prize.”

“I know you’ve been cheating on me, Jordan. I looked at your phone. I know I don’t mean anything to you. You tricked me.”

As I cross my arms, fuming at his complete disrespect, he grabs my passport from my purse and starts shredding it.

“You want to play games with me? Fine. Then I’ll play games with you.”

I try and pry it from him, but he shrugs me off. I don’t want to get hurt, so I stand there, watching in shock as he takes my wallet and pulls my ID from it.

Grabbing the pair of scissors from the desk he quickly cuts it, along with all my credit cards. They fall in pieces to the carpet.

With a flash, I know that this man is more than a cheater—he is crazy. And I need to get away from him. Now.

I reach for my cash, but he pulls it from my fingers and starts ripping it, flushing it down the toilet. That’s when I start to feel more than rejected.

I’m terrified.

“Jordan, stop,” I demand, reaching for his arm as he continues to rip the last of my cash.

“Don’t tell me what to do, Chloe.” He looks at me with disgust, his lip pulled back in a snarl and I can’t believe I ever kissed him. “I’m the only man who’s ever even wanted you. You thought I liked you because you read books and graduated with honors?” He snorts. “I’m a businessman, I don’t need a smart girl. I just wanted you because you’re a virgin. But now that I’ve gotten to know you, I bet your cunt is as dried up as your heart.”

“I’m not… dried up.”

Jordan laughs coldly. “Actually, you are. If you had any soul at all, Chloe, you wouldn’t have spent the last month being a dick tease. You keep promising me a fuck, yet give me nothing in return for my affection.”

I shake my head, blinking back tears, not wanting to cry in front of him.

“Get out of here, you little whore, and take your shriveled-up pussy with you.”

He holds open the door to the oceanfront condo that he rented for us.

“Are you seriously kicking me out? Without any money or my passport or a phone? Jordan, I know you’re—”

But he shoves me the rest of the way out the door before slamming it shut.

I hear the lock click

He kicked me out.

I stare at the closed door, incredulously.

Did Jordan seriously just leave me barefoot and stranded in Jamaica?Chapter TwoChloeI don’t know what to do, but I certainly don’t want to go back to Jordan. The only way he’ll let me in is if I give him my body and I’m definitely not doing that now.

I can’t believe I trusted him enough to let him bring me here. My judgment feels a mess, what kind of woman am I? I shouldn’t have let him sweep me off my feet. I should have stayed grounded and looked for a job, and not believed that a man with money and prestige would love an orphan like me.

No, I tell myself. I’m not going down that road. I’m not going to be a victim, and I’m certainly not going to act like any of this is my fault. Jordan is a jerk. I met him when I applied for a bookkeeping job at his company, and when he asked me out, I didn’t know he was the owner.

I let him take me to lunch, and then gave him four weeks of my undivided attention. All at a time when I should have been focused on getting a job. Now I’ve graduated, and since I lived on campus all four years of college, I am officially homeless.

Jordan had told me he would help me find a place to live when we got home from this trip.

I am such a fool.

A homeless fool.

I look around the condo complex, remembering that when we checked in earlier the place was unseasonably empty. I walk toward the main office and see that the hours are 9 to 5. It’s after eleven o’clock at night now. No one’s here. I bite my knuckles, feeling lost. Feeling stuck. Not knowing where to go.

I may be a virgin, but I’m not an idiot. I can’t just stand on the sidewalk all night. Besides, I don’t want Jordan to come out and see me, or he might start yelling at me again.

And I also don’t want to face the fact that he might not come looking for me at all.

My eyes sting, hot tears threatening to escape.