"Thank you for driving me home," I muttered, hastily unbuckling myself before Richard even stopped the car. I didn't want to be in this car a second longer than I had to. Not only was the berry smell a brutal reminder, my clothes were also soaked and stained. The parts that had dried off were now sticky, pulling at my skin and clothes. The last thing I wanted to do was dirty up the hand stitched leather seats in Richard's favorite car. It was all I could think about in that moment, keeping myself numb to the reality of what happened.

"It was no problem," Richard replied, his eyes watching me closely from the rearview mirror. "Are you sure that you're going to be alright, Penelope? This must be quite upsetting for you."

"Yes, thank you." My voice was icy and foreign sounding to my own ears. I could see Richard almost wincing in the front seat before looking at Jen for help. I didn't care what either of them had to say. I opened my door and climbed out.

"Go home," I ordered when I heard the front passenger door open as well. There was a click of a high heel on concrete. Of course Richard would send her after me. Or maybe she came of her own will. It didn't matter, either way.

"No," Jen shot back.

I said nothing and walked towards my apartment complex. I didn't even glance at her. The rapid click of her heels followed me over the sidewalk, inside the main corridor, to the elevator. I pushed the button for my floor. I remained silent. Jen didn't speak either, probably thinking that she couldn't give me fuel to argue against if there were no words for me to throw back in her face.

We made it to my apartment and when I struggled to peel off my jacket Jen's hands were there to help. She made sure the sticky parts didn't pull at my hair or skin too harshly.

"Go shower," she murmured. Her hands still held onto that cute jacket that I had loved so much. "Throw your clothes outside the bathroom and I'll put them in the laundry."

"They're already ruined. We might as well throw the whole outfit in the garbage," I spat, the numbness falling away to fury. I thought it would be a gradual slope into my anger. It wasn't. It was a plunge into the depths of Hell.

"We'll see what we are dealing with after some pre-treater and a good wash. You can decide what you want after that. For now, go shower."

I did what she said. I went to the bathroom to strip naked, but as soon as that wooden door clicked closed behind me and I was alone I lost it.

Never before in my life had I felt so wild. As i stared at myself in the mirror with a now red shirt and drenched hair I wanted to scream. I wanted to wail until someone called the police. Or, better yet, I wanted to scream until my throat became dry and I was dehydrated. I wanted to punch something or someone. I wanted to run away. I wanted to get on a plane and fly away until I was in a country where I didn't speak the language and no one knew my name.

But I couldn't do any of those things. I didn't want to give Jen a heart attack. She was already so worried about me and I didn't want my neighbors to think I was any more unstable than they already thought.

So I just stood there with my trembling lips, watching the tears pool in my eyes then pour down my cheeks. It started so slowly as first, but very quickly I wasn't able to see my reflection through the water. I could feel the warm tears cutting a line through all of the sugar that had dried onto my face, ruining my makeup.Then, when I sucked in a breath I made a soft whimpering noise. One hand clamped over my mouth, trying to keep my fragile state secret. But my legs began to shake from all of the overwhelming emotion. Keeping one hand over my lips I used the other to ease myself down on the edge of the tub.

I hated him. I hated Connor. At one point I had thought that I would love him forever. I would never be able to get over the break up because we were soulmates. We were to be married and I wasn't able to envision a life without him.

Now, I wished I had never met him.

No, he hadn't poured the drink on me. In fact, I was pretty sure that he hadn't even been at the bar tonight. It didn't matter. His teammates were so tightly knit that they were like a family. If they felt like I had wronged him they would come after me without the slightest push from him. They felt like they were protecting one of their own.

But he had wronged me. He had chosen someone else over me. He decided that me giving up my life for him was not enough. I couldn't just be a normal dedicated hockey wife. I had to be more. He had been searching for something that I couldn't offer him.

My eyes made out a blurry outline in the mirror and I wondered what was wrong with me. What could possible be so awful about me that I chased him into the arms of other women? Never in my life had I been insecure about the way I looked. But now, I was. I wondered if I was too fat, if my thighs were too wide or if my waist wasn't narrow enough. Or maybe I just didn't have the facial structure he wanted. Maybe I didn't look enough like a goddess to stand beside a hockey god.

"Penelope?" Jen whispered from the other side of the door.

I leapt off the edge of the tub and swiped a panicked hand over my face, wiping away tears and snot in one gross motion.

"Yeah?" I replied, my throat still tight.

"I don't hear the water. Are you okay?"

"Yeah, totally. I just needed some time."

"Okay, I have The Godfather loaded up and ready to go when you're done," she encouraged.

With her breaking my self-destructive train of thought I was able to regroup and peel my clothes off me. My hands were still shaking when I tossed the clothes into the hallway for Jen to wash, but I felt like I was getting a better handle on myself. I reminded myself that Connor made a mistake. He decided to risk our relationship because he was entitled and the world on a silver platter would never be enough. That wasn't my fault and it didn't mean I was worth any less.

I stayed in the shower for a long time. I shampooed my hair several times, hopping that the artificially coloured drink hadn't stained my blonde hair. It took several rinses and layers of suds to get through all the stickiness that coated me, but I felt infinitely better when it was all down the drain.

When I came out of the bathroom in a towel my ruined clothes were gone. After a quick dip into my room I reappeared in a pair of leggings and a tee shirt.

"Alright, let's drink enough coffee to kill a horse and watch those gangster movies that you love so much," Jen announced when she saw me again. Her face held a brilliant smile that would've fooled most but I could see the way that her eyes were roving over me, making sure that I was all accounted for.

"I'm fine," I snapped, weaving around her.

"It wasn't Hudson was it?" she asked, her voice so soft that it caught me by surprise.

"No, it wasn't, but I would really appreciate it if you stopped trying to hook me up with him or any other guy for that matter." The words were fiery as they left my lips. And each syllable stung my throat. Sure, maybe she pushed a little, but I was the one who had drooled over him when he was shirtless. I had slipped and I knew it. That was unforgivable. I could feel the wall that I had around myself strengthening.

"Hey," Jen said. I felt her dainty hand wrap around my wrist. I whirled around to face her, ready to spit flames at her. But when I saw the sullen set of her eyes all the hate died on my lips. "I'm not trying to push you into anything you aren't ready for. I'm sorry, I see that I have been pushing you in the wrong way, but I'm worried about you. Since Connor you've pulled away from me. You've pulled away from everyone. I know that you were pretending when you were with him, you were always happy or whatever he needed. I thought things would get better. But you're pretending now too. I just want you to be okay again. I just want you to be Penelope again."

And with that, I crumpled against her. My arms were flung around her waist and I was sobbing against her shoulder.