Chasing Us (Dark Love 2)

“When you say coffee, you meant vodka, right?”

She laughs as we walk into the kitchen. I sit at the small round table, flipping aimlessly through a wedding magazine that sits in front of me while she starts the Keurig. The pictures are all one big blur. I need a distraction, anything to stop me from remembering the way he looks, the way he gave up on me, again.

“We won’t talk about him.”

“Thank you.” It’s all I can manage to say.

Handing me a cup of steaming coffee, she leads me to her guest room where I change into my dress. I can’t help but look over at the suits that are hanging on the rack, especially the one with the Post-it note scribbled with Lex.

“Adriana, when did you really know Elijah was the one?”

She removes the pins out of her mouth, placing them back into her sewing box. “I think it was my first year of college. I mean, yeah, I always fantasized about marrying him. I’m sure you remember how much I talked about that in our senior year.

I nod with a smile. “Yes, you did.”

“I sure did love him, but you know it was high school, and I was only eighteen. Then the first year of college was rough. We were apart, and I had lost you. Lex had gone AWOL, and I really felt alone. I made some friends on campus, and there was this one guy, Matthew. He was great, your typical college jock, sweet and a great friend.” She smiles at the memory before continuing, “One day he made a move, and I froze. I didn’t see him that way, and I apologized that I gave him the wrong impression. Naturally, being a great guy, he understood, but then I asked myself what made me stop. And then I realized Elijah was the only one who’d ever kissed me, the only one who had ever touched me, and I didn’t want that to change. I knew I wanted him for the rest of my life but trying to propose to a guy takes balls.”

“You proposed to Elijah?”

“No, although I was close to doing it. He proposed to me. It was our second year of college, and he was studying art. I never really saw much of his work because it was very private to him. One day, he invited me to have dinner in his dorm room. Not the most romantic of settings but, of course, he’d decked it out with a million candles. Anyway, he said he wanted to show me what his assignment was, it was supposed to be something that captured you. He pulled the curtain away, and there was this black and white painting. It was me.

“But the thing was it looked so familiar, the scene, and then he told me it was when we used to sit by the lake and watch the sunrise. We never took photographs of that time, but he told me he knew he loved me even back then, and that image will be forever engrained in his memory. I was touched, of course, but what caught my eye was that the portrait of me sitting by the lake had something different. There was a wedding band in the painting. It stood out because everything was black and white, but the band… it was gold. I started to cry, and then he got down on one knee and asked me to marry him.”

“Oh my God, Adriana. That’s so sweet.” I choke back the tears threatening to fall. “You guys are soul mates, you know that, right?”

“I wouldn’t marry him if I didn’t think so myself.” She grins.

“You deserve only the best… I really mean that.”

With a sigh, she gazes at me sympathetically. “In the end, Char, it will all work out. I promise you.”

***

It’s well after midnight when I crawled into bed that night. The fitting went well, and according to Adriana, I’d lost a few pounds. It’s not like I needed a reminder of why my jeans feel loose around my waist.

As I lay alone in bed, the thoughts keep plaguing me, especially the way Lex ignored me. His face, tonight, the way he avoided looking at me, the way he couldn’t even say a word to me made my stomach queasy. The images, the memories of us standing in that gazebo saying ‘I do,’ he was my husband, and it hurt like fucking hell that he had forgotten that. Now what? Do we get a divorce? Annulment? Was it actually valid?

It’s the second night I have cried myself to sleep.

I’d spend the majority of the week with Will, taking him to school, picking him up from school, taking him to the park, museum, and library, practically visiting every part of Manhattan. Nikki encourages me to take the week off since my cases are quiet, and I gladly welcome the break looking for any distraction to get me through this tough time.

Despite a tiresome week seeing every sight possible, I can’t shake how ill I feel. I barely sleep and wake up in hot and cold sweats. I blame my binge drinking for my immune system taking a massive hit.

The vomiting hasn’t stopped, so I narrow it down to Will’s stomach bug. He caught it early last week, and I’ve been around him when he was contagious. Even in my sickly state, I try to get in some time at the office until Nikki sends me home, refusing for the rest of our staff to become infected. When I try to argue, she pulls out the health and safety policy of our team, which I can’t argue with.

By Tuesday, I’m told not to even step foot in the office. I hate being home alone. It gives me too much time to think. By Wednesday, I’m going insane, and I don’t feel any better.

Sitting on the couch certain I have some deadly disease, I decide to drag my sorry ass to the drug store. I’m out of Pepto-Bismol and Advil and need something stronger to battle whatever is wrong with me.

Dressed in my sweats with my purse in hand, I wait for the pharmacist who is busy talking to a lady who looks like she’s about to pop out an elephant. I half-smile at her as she rubs her belly, complaining to the pharmacist about the terrible heartburn she’s having.

I’m not really listening to the entire conversation, but something about her piques my interest. Despite her complaint, her face glows, her long red hair has that shine, the one they always say pregnant ladies have. Her loose dress hangs comfortably over her stomach, and her ankles are as swollen as tree trunks. I wince at the thought of being in so much pain.

However, she still looks beautiful, and then it hits me like a ton of bricks laced with acid.

My period.

In a panic, I scroll through my phone unable to locate my calendar. My hands shake as I fumble through the apps, finally locating it. I go back through the months. I get my period like I normally do but my shot. Shit. Unable to calm down, I search in panic, and there it is, the reminder to get my shot over a month ago.