Empty Promises (The Promises Series Book 3) by Elle Brooks Read Free Book Online Page A

gut. I’m sure it would knock me down if I actually had the ability to bend in this dress. I’m never getting married.
    I’m never buying a house or fighting with my partner about what color blinds to hang in the bedroom.
    I’ll never have a proud mother moment when my child takes his or her first steps.
    It’s not fair!
    I’m a good person; I deserve those things, or at least I deserve a shot at them. Don’t I?
    “Emily, are you ready to show your mom?” she asks, oblivious to the internal freak out I’m experiencing, and it breaks me out of my own thoughts. I take a deep breath … well, what was supposed to be deep. It’s more of a shallow wheeze since I’m pretty sure my lungs have been relocated after trying on this gown.
    “You think I could have just a second, please?”
    I’m answered with a small knowing nod as she retreats back around the curtain and I hear her strike up a conversation with Mom. I allow myself thirty seconds of mourning for the life I’ll never have, and then put my game face back on. If I’m going to leave my mom with a memory of this, then it damn well better be a good one.

 

     
    August 12 th , 2013
     
    Dear Diary,
    I’ve had what you could term a surreal weekend. I spent Saturday trying on wedding dresses with my mom. It was one of those moments that restore your faith in humanity. Dad always has the news playing in the background, wherever he is, and it’s always filled with god-awful stories. People being murdered, terrorism, financial meltdowns, and natural disasters. Do the television networks have some sort of no-happiness clause where they’re not allowed to report on anything good? So yeah, in a world where you’re constantly exposed to shitty things, this act of kindness really touched me. Dana not only let us try on dresses, she let Mom take pictures, too, which is apparently against company policy. It was an emotional experience, but I have to admit, it was nice, even if a little bittersweet.
    Sunday was hilarious, and it’s all due to Blair, Casey, and Brie. We arranged to meet for coffee and basically spent hours putting the world to rights and indulging in mindless gossip. It was great to feel healthy and carefree for a few hours. We were huddled in the far corner of The Grind, a small mom and pop store on the end of Main. It’s Brie’s new fascination; the coffee is excellent, but that’s not what has her driving past three different coffee franchises to get here. The new barista is smoking hot. Even though he’s not my type, I can still appreciate that he’s gorgeous.
    When we noticed that he was working, Brie immediately volunteered as tribute! She never offers to get the coffee, so Blair, Casey and I all looked at each other like maybe we’d heard her wrong. She smirked and told us to watch and learn how to snare a guy in two minutes flat. The girl is the epitome of confidence, so we each made ourselves comfy for the show. She sashayed to the counter like she was walking the runway. Casey was muttering loud enough for just about everyone in the place to hear, “Work it, work it, baby, own it,” a la Kit from “Pretty Woman.” Blair and I were laughing through our cupped hands, and Brie snapped her head back to shoot us ‘the look.’
    All her ass swaying weighed against her though. Literally! She carried on walking as she looked back to scowl at us and didn’t see that Barista Babe had moved around the counter with a tray of iced coffees for a group sitting by the window. One minute she’s like a panther stalking her prey, and the next, she’s teetering on her heels from the exaggerated ass swaying and is barreling towards the coffee god. I swear, it was like slow motion watching as the tray flipped, she landed, and then found herself taking a Frappuccino bath in the middle of the store.
    Blair shot up to go help as Casey and I were pinned to our seats with belly crunching laughter. Brie was shrieking about how freezing the drinks were while