You can’t honestly mean…he’s an asshole, Hannah!” “Come on, Chris, please try to understand. I really like him.” It’s seven on a Friday night, and I’m an hour away from what I now think of as the gallows date. I literally feel as if I’m walking to my own doom. You know, figuratively, and instead of telling Chrissie the truth about Gregory and his two-timing ass, I’m asking her to babysit Nana while I pretend to actually like Gregory. It sucks that this is now what I’ve been reduced to, a woman with no clue as to what will happen. Which means no control, and that’s almost worse than knowing I’m about to sleep with a man who’s committed to someone else. I really hate Gregory Lucas. “Gooood! I can’t believe you’re falling for his smooth talking,” she mutters, throwing her hands up in disgust. If only she knew how untrue that statement is.
