Chasing Love (Dark Love 1)
“Well, it doesn’t feel like nothing to me,” he raises his voice, the jealously seething in his tone. “I love you, I asked you to marry me. Then he walks back into your life, and I’m what? Your plan B in case he fucks you over again?”
“Julian…” I reach for his arm, but he retracts.
“Listen, Charlie…” He hesitates, then reaches in his pocket and produces a small box. “Happy birthday. You decide who it is you really want. But for now, I need time… I can’t do this right now.”
I stand alone on the sidewalk as he walks away, turning the corner. My hand clutches the tiny box, not knowing what to do. I walk back into the restaurant and stand by the doorway. Opening the box, inside sits a key, the top part shaped like the Batman symbol. I read the note attached to the key.
The key to my bat cave… our new home.
I place the key back in the box as a tear slips down my cheek. What the hell am I doing, and most importantly, what the hell do I want?
Well, I know what I want but I’m afraid that if I say it out loud, there will be no way back. Chances are that the road is a dead-end leading me back to where I started.
I return to our table, a little unsteady as the sangria has finally managed to make its way through my veins. When I finally spot everyone, they are cheering on Rocky, who’s singing ‘Call Me Maybe.’
Nikki looks mortified, bowing her head and shaking it repeatedly. As the song finishes, the crowd roars, and the Japanese tourists pull out their pens and autograph books, begging him for an autograph. Rocky grins as he signs away and takes photographs with the tourists. Our table is in hysterics. Finally, Nikki cracks a laugh.
Eric is still trying to decide what to sing. He sits there belting out lines to each song, trying to get pitch-perfect like he’s auditioning for The Voice.
My attention moves to Adriana, who is persuading Lex to sing. Lex has a beautiful voice—smooth and soothing. He isn’t the type to get up and sing in front of a crowd, however, his sudden burst of courage intrigues me.
He walks over to the stage as they call his name, speaking briefly to the man in charge of the music. Stepping up to the stage, he settles behind the piano. The lights dim, and the crowd roars as he begins playing the notes. My heart is beating so loud in competition with the volume of the music played. As the crowd sits silently in adoration, the tune becomes increasingly familiar. Bruno Mars, ‘When I Was Your Man.’
I close my eyes, taking in every word of the song. This means more to me than anything.
Is it time to finally forgive?
He’s hurting.
My Alex is hurting.
He is right. He does have feelings too, and I can’t have become so cold that I cannot acknowledge that. We need to talk, but not tonight. Not on my birthday. Not on the same night my fiancé walked out on me and told me he was hurting too.
I’m the wrecking ball, destroying everything in my sight. People are hurting because of me, because of my careless actions.
I don’t know who I have become, but as I gaze at him on the stage, admiring his courage to bare his soul to me in front of everyone, the light inside my head turns on.
“I know the song we’ll sing,” I say, my voice barely a whisper.
“What is it, Charlie?” Eric asks.
I lean over and tell him. If I can’t talk to Lex, I’ll follow his lead, express my feelings through this one song, and hope he understands what I need from him.
What I need to fix us.
LEX
The little blue box sits on my nightstand, a constant reminder of her, tormenting me as I sit in my hotel room just staring at it.
It has taken me most of yesterday morning to pull strings at Tiffany’s to get the diamonds encrusted into the pendant. Thank my fucking lucky stars the manager knows who I am, so after a ton of money was sent their way, it was hand-delivered to my suite. I know this means a lot to her. When I asked her about the tattoo, she brushed it off in typical Charlotte fashion.
When the fuck will she open up to me?
We are huddled in a private area of the restaurant
. The room is decorated with emerald balloons—Adriana’s idea, of course. I stand next to Elijah as he’s telling me about a new job he’s starting in Brooklyn.
“So, I’ll be teaching art classes for the youth down at the YMCA. It’ll be a nice change.”