Chapter 2 Fried Chicken and Wine

The clink of glass against the marble countertop echoed through Sophia's cozy kitchen as she poured a generous glass of ruby-red Merlot. Emily's mascara-streaked face stared blankly ahead, her eyes puffy and red-rimmed.

"Fuck it," Sophia muttered, setting down the glass and grabbing the entire bottle instead. She pressed the cool glass into Emily's trembling hands. "You need this more than I do, babe."

Emily's fingers curled around the bottle's neck, her engagement ring noticeably absent. The weight of it felt both comforting and dangerous - a lifeline and a weapon all at once. She took a long swig, relishing the warmth as it slid down her throat.

"I can't believe that bastard," Emily choked out, her voice raw from crying. "After everything we've been through..."

Sophia perched on the kitchen stool beside her, placing a reassuring hand on Emily's shoulder. "He's a fucking idiot, Em. You deserve so much better than that cheating asshole."

Emily's mind raced, replaying the horrific scene in Ryan's office over and over. The tangle of limbs, the gasps of pleasure, the look of shock on his face when she burst in. Her stomach churned.

"How could he do this to me?" she whispered, more to herself than to Sophia. "I gave him everything."

"Because he's a selfish prick who doesn't know a good thing when he's got it," Sophia spat, her hazel eyes flashing with anger. "You're smart, gorgeous, and successful as hell. He just threw away the best thing that ever happened to him."

Emily took another long pull from the bottle, feeling the alcohol start to dull the sharp edges of her pain. She glanced around Sophia's eclectic kitchen, with its mismatched mugs and colourful art prints. It felt safe here, a stark contrast to the chaos of the past few hours.

"What am I supposed to do now, Soph?" Emily asked, her voice small and uncertain. "We were supposed to get married in three months. I thought he was the one."

Sophia squeezed her hand. "Right now, you're gonna drink that wine and let yourself feel like shit. Tomorrow, we'll figure out how to cancel everything and get your deposits back. And then you're gonna pick yourself up and show that asshole exactly what he's missing out on."

Emily managed a weak smile, grateful for her friend's unwavering support. "I don't know what I'd do without you."

"Crash and burn, probably," Sophia quipped with a wink. "Now come on, let's order some greasy fried chicken and talk shit about Ryan until we pass out. It's the best breakup cure I know."

As Sophia reached for her phone to place an order, Emily took another sip of wine. The pain was still there, raw and throbbing, but she felt a tiny spark of determination ignite within her.

She may be broken now, but she wouldn't let Ryan's betrayal define her. With Sophia by her side and a bottle of wine in hand, she'd find a way to put herself back together - stronger than ever before.

The crimson wine sloshed in Emily's glass, threatening to spill over as she gestured wildly. "That lying, cheating bastard," she slurred, stuffing another piece of fried chicken into her mouth.

Sophia nodded sympathetically, reaching for the bottle to top up their glasses. "You're better off without him, Em."

Emily's mascara-streaked face crumpled. "But I loved him, Soph. I fucking loved him." She grabbed a handful of fries, shoving them in her mouth and chewing angrily.

The living room was a battlefield of empty wine bottles and greasy KFC boxes.

"I know, sweetie," Sophia soothed, rubbing Emily's back. "But you deserve so much better than that asshole."

Emily nodded, wiping her nose with the back of her hand. She felt hollow inside, like Ryan had scooped out her heart and stomped on it. But the anger was there too, simmering beneath the surface.

"You know what? Fuck him," Emily declared, raising her glass. "To being single and fabulous."

Sophia clinked her glass against Emily's. "Hell yeah. Who needs men anyway?"

They gulped down more wine, the alcohol burning Emily's throat. She relished the sensation, wanting to feel anything but the ache in her chest.

"Remember that time in uni when we swore off men for a month?" Sophia giggled, reaching for another drumstick.

Emily snorted, a ghost of a smile playing on her lips. "God, that was a disaster. We lasted what, three days?"

"Two and a half," Sophia corrected, grinning.

For a moment, Emily felt lighter. But then reality came crashing back down. "I can't believe I wasted three years on that dickhead," she muttered.

Sophia squeezed her hand. "It wasn't a waste, Em. You learned what you don't want in a partner. And now you can focus on yourself."

Emily nodded, tears welling up again. "I just... I thought he was the one, you know?"

"I know, babe," Sophia murmured. "But the right guy is still out there. And when you find him, he'll make you forget all about Ryan fucking Mitchell."

Emily managed a watery smile, grateful for her friend's unwavering support. She reached for the wine bottle, determined to drown her sorrows in alcohol and greasy food. Tomorrow, she'd pick up the pieces of her shattered heart. But tonight, she'd wallow.