I'm only staying, because if I go home, I'll do or say something stupid. My mouth would probably flat out ask him why he doesn't love me, and that won't do. I'm afraid of the answer. What if he doesn’t, but he doesn’t want to lose me? Is that enough for me? No, but how would I ever have the strength to leave when I love him so fucking much it hurts.
In the morning I'll put my big girl pants on, but tonight I'm going to watch trashy TV and wallow in my misery.Chapter NineteenMarquiseHours. It’s been hours since she ran out on me, but it feels like days. Years even. I tried to have my driver follow the cab, but she was so far ahead. I have been calling her incessantly. Nonstop hitting the redial button. She hasn’t picked up and it feels like the world is closing in on me. I didn’t go back to the office. Instead, I had my driver take me straight home. I immediately go in, pick up a bottle of Patron, and haven’t stopped. I don’t know if she is okay, where she is, or anything. The not knowing is punishment enough. I turn on my playlist and like fate Zayn Malik and Taylor Swift are singing about not wanting to live forever if it's not with his love. I hear you Zayn. I put it on repeat.
“MARQ? ARE YOU HERE?” Baron yells, as he and what I assume are my other two brothers walk through the house looking for me.
“Yep.” I answer, not sure if any other words can leave my mouth at the moment.
“What the hell happened, Marq? Ingrid said one minute you had a client in your office, and the next Chrissy was running out crying with you screaming at her.”
“Good old Ingrid. Always has the information, doesn’t she? Did she tell you who the client was?” I pour myself another drink, my hand shaking. Not sure if it is from the alcohol or because my strength has run out on me.
“No. Why? Who was it?” Duke asks, grumpy as usual. Figures. She left out the shit that would explain all this.
“It was Faith. Faith fucking turned up, said some shit that Chrissy overheard about her not being good enough for me. And she...she believed it. She fucking believed it...Duke. She believed that shit and left. She ran without giving me a chance to explain, deny...nothing. What am I going to do? I have to find her. Why? Why did she leave?” I scream, throwing my glass across the room. None of them flinch. All of us at one point, since we have known one another, have had breakdowns. It no longer bothers us.
“Shit. Faith? I thought she got the picture when we dropped her as a client. I told you to put a protection order against her. I mean dude, she was obsessed with you for months.” I look at Prince, knowing he is right.
“Doesn’t she know that she is my universe? What else do I have to do?” I pull at my hair, losing my damn mind. Literally.
“Have you told her that, Marq? Have you told her what she means to you?”
“Of course, I have. What the hell do you think I have been doing this whole time? Of course, she fucking knows, Duke. Jesus. What else could she think she means to me?” I feel the panic building.
“Calm down Marq. We know how your mind works. You let people close...or so they think, until they realize they haven’t even crossed the first threshold. Have you told her?” I know what he is asking.
“Not the last part. But more than most people know.”
“When are you going to stop being scared? She has had a lot of loss, Marq. What she needs from you is safety. Trust. Honesty. Someone she can depend on. I know you have been taking care of her. Hell, I can look at you and see you are in love with her. But the question is...does she know it?” I look at Prince, my mind zooming with what he just said. I want to say yes, but the truth is I am not sure.
“Oh God.” I say my head in my hands.
“You are a fucking idiot, brother. But even idiots deserve love. Find her and make it right.” They leave shortly after. My mind is still whirling with his question. Does she know? I mean, I have said it enough...haven’t I?
“FUCK.” I push everything off the counter. What the hell am I going to do? I walk into my bedroom and everything is a blur. Everything is dark and filled with smoke, promising to burn me from the inside out. She is not going to be in this bed with me. My warmth, heat, and comfort are not in the bed waiting for me, with her heart open and her pussy wet. Not sure where to go, I do something I haven’t done since I was 6 years old. I fall to my knees with my head hanging. There are tears racing down my face like the roaring rapids. I am not sure how to start this, but like Sam Smith says, ‘everyone prays in the end’. This may not be me dying, but it sure as hell feels like it.