Chasing Her (Dark Love 3)

“Julian, we’re more than okay. In fact, we’re perfect.”

We were perfect.

Until the day he walked back into Charlie’s life.

Deep down, I knew there was more to Charlie than she had let on. Yeah, okay, we all have a past. I wasn’t one to pry, and I didn’t want her prying into my life, either. She didn’t need to know about Chelsea, nor the fact that the only girl I ever loved, the girl I gave my everything to, was burned to a crisp right before my eyes. She especially didn’t need to know that nightmares haunted me every night and only stopped the night she first slept beside me.

I was a fucking idiot to think she loved me enough that any ex who would stroll back into her life would be insignificant, but, of course, luck was never on my side.

It had to be Lex Edwards.

I knew who the fuck he was. I wrote an article about him which took me months to prepare with extensive research. I had studied his entire life. I could even tell you his damn shoe size. He was a force to be reckoned with. His intelligence drove him to become a mogul, and like all the other billionaires, he led the saddest existence. Random floozies photographed with him at all times. His dick had been in every blonde in sight.

But even throughout all that, I had no idea Charlie and Lex had a past, and him coming back into her life would effectively end our relationship.

I tried to trust her, but when I felt myself weaken, I ran. Just like the night of the charity ball, I was weak, and so I did what I had always done when I was scared I visited my dealer. Alone, in the dark, I’d do a line as I talked to Chelsea. I told her my fears, told her I missed her, that I loved her. I prayed for a miracle that she wasn’t really gone, that I was living a fucking nightmare, and I’d wake up at any moment.

Those prayers were never answered, and the nightmares were only beginning.

I wasn’t stupid. I knew Charlie was betraying me. And in some sick and twisted way, I thought, let her do this, let him hurt her, and then she’ll see him for what he really is. Lex Edwards isn’t the man she left behind in high school, his narcissist trait will eventually be found out, and he’ll break her in ways to the point beyond forgiveness.

When she said she was going to The Hamptons, I wanted to hurt her—a side of myself to this day haunts me. My dealer just got in a fresh shipment, and the timing was perfect because I had no other way of escaping. I was on the verge of doing things, dark things I allowed my imagination to conjure up, but it was almost like someone was looking out for me, holding me back from destroying everything.

I cleaned myself up enough to drive to The Hamptons, ready to fight for what was mine until I received a call from my mother dragging me back to South Carolina because Chelsea’s parents took their own lives. Tortured by the death of their only child, they had driven to the same spot where Chelsea died and drove their car into the lake, drowning instantly. It was twelve years later—what would’ve been Chelsea’s thirtieth birthday.

It rocked the community, and the nightmares started again.

I was spiraling out of control.

The days became nights, and the nights became days.

I knew I shouldn’t have let Charlie go when she handed me back the ring, but I was so high on coke, I had no idea what the fuck was happening anymore.

I miss Chelsea. The pain is fucking unbearable.

The nightmares plague me, the flames visible, and my lungs hurt from screaming her name.

Life became a big blur. I lost my job in New York, and my landlord evicted me. My mother begged me to stay with her. I had officially hit rock bottom, a fatality waiting to happen.

I needed to escape my drug dealer—as long as he supplied it, I’d take it.

Moving across the country was the best decision I could’ve made for myself—fun in the sun, back to enjoying surfing and other outdoor sports that I used to love. California was the answer.

The universe had other ideas, or perhaps it was fate. Charlie? Living in LA? You could imagine my shock. The signs were there—we were meant to be. I just needed to make sure I didn’t fuck up this time.

So here I am today, exactly eight months after the gala when I last touched her. My gorgeous Charlie. She was glowing in her strapless black gown, and every part of me broke down the second we touched. Her smile was enough to erase all my bad history, enough to make me believe we were meant to be together.

Enough for me to tell her I still loved her.

She told me she loved her husband, not that I believed it for a second. There were too many pauses, and I knew Charlie better than anyone else—her marriage was falling apart. Rumors had begun spreading of Lex Edwards screwing his young assistant, Montana Black. Perhaps, I shouldn’t have mentioned anything to a fellow colleague who happened to work in our ‘gossip’ department. But nevertheless, Charlie’s life was falling apart, and she needed saving.

The problem was, I allowed my insecurities to weaken my position with us, begging her to leave him for me. Every part of me prayed for a miracle, but it never came. Instead, she walked back into his arms, and I walked into another dealer’s stash after three months of being clean.

I stand up from the bed and walk over to my closet. Behind my sports jackets is a slight cavity in the wall. I reach in and pull it out—the photograph of Charlie I took when we were together, naked, spread out on my bed. The lust in her eyes, the way she begged me to fuck her, I feel myself harden instantly. And with that, I reach into the cavity again and pull out the one thing I promised myself I wouldn’t, the one thing I battled with myself not to do anymore, I pull out her panties, the ones I stole from her house a few months ago.

I struggle with my morals. I know it’s wrong, but the obsession takes hold of me, and so I pull it toward my nose and inhale the scent.

The scent belonging to Charlie.