Carly:
Tough shit.
Carly:
STOP texting me.
Growling, I throw the phone back into the cup holder and cross my arms over my chest. That’s fine. She can fight me but I’m not giving up. I’ve been waiting for a long fucking time for a girl like Carly to come along and she’s got no idea what she’s in store for. I won’t stop until she’s mine.
Chapter Nineteen
Carly
Shadows dance across the ceiling, lulling me into an almost dream-like state as I lie in bed staring at them. Or maybe it’s the fact that I’ve been up for close to twenty-four hours now, but I can’t close my eyes. Whenever I do, I see him. Chance consumes my thoughts and I can’t stop picturing the first time we had sex – how he broke down my barriers so effortlessly – or two nights ago when I had everything I was too scared to wish for. I can feel his hands brushing over my skin, his touch so tender and possessive that of course I fell in love with him because how could I not? He bulldozed his way into my life with a perfect mixture of cool complicated bad boy and sweet, steady man and I never stood a damn chance.
All night long, I’ve tried to marry that man with who I now know he really is and it just doesn’t make sense. I can’t see Chance doing something like that to me, but I guess that just shows you how stupid I am. Even when the truth is staring me in the face, I still don’t believe it. It takes a certain kind of coldness to lie as easily as he did, to look me in the face as I laid down my rules and promise me he wasn’t seeing anyone else. How could I fall for a man like that? Am I really that clueless? Tears sting my eyes and my dad’s face pops into my mind. A sob is ripped from my chest as I think about Chance’s wife – I did the same thing to her that my mother did to my father and I hate me for it. I should have known better. I should have walked away from him as soon as he looked me in the eye.
I can’t stop replaying the last three weeks over and over again, looking for any sign I missed but I keep coming up empty. He’s been a model boyfriend, even if I wasn’t calling him that. Friday night flashes through my mind again and fresh tears roll down my cheeks. Everything about it was perfect up until the moment I walked out of the bathroom and God, even in those few short seconds where I had decided to say yes to him, I imagined a life with him. A full and beautiful life where I didn’t have to be the broken damaged girl anymore. I could just be his and that would be enough because what else would I need if he loved me? I imagined things I would have never allowed myself to imagine before and this pain I’m experiencing now is the exact reason why. I feel nothing except piercing, gaping sadness in the spot where my heart used to be. There’s no need for walls to protect it anymore because he stole in and smashed it under his boot.
My phone beeps on the bedside table and I turn my head to the side, sighing as I stare at it. The scent of cinnamon drifts up from his shirt and my stomach rolls as my lip wobbles again. God, I’m pathetic. The phone beeps again and my eyes narrow as I glare at it. I swear to God, if he’s texting me again to tell me that I can’t run from him or that we need to talk, I might kill him. I’m sure he doesn’t realize I know about his double life yet, but seriously, who the hell does this guy think he is? Why pursue me so hard if this could never go anywhere? And what does it say about me that I fell in love with a man like that? Sighing, I sit and up and drag myself over to the edge of the bed before grabbing my phone and unlocking it.
Ivy:
Lunch today?
Ivy:
1? Our usual spot?
Me:
Sounds good.
The text from my sister after weeks of radio silence is a welcome surprise and I smile but my lack of sleep is quickly catching up with me. There is no way in hell I’m missing this lunch with her, though. I’ve been too worried about her. Tossing the phone next to me on the bed, I push off the mattress and drag myself into the bathroom, dreaming about a big cup of coffee when I get done with my shower. When I glance in the mirror, I gasp and drop my gaze down to the countertop. I look about as good as I feel and my mother would be absolutely horrified. Not like I care though. I just need to make myself look presentable enough that Ivy won’t notice because the last thing I want to do is talk about this with anyone.
Turning away from the mirror, I quickly undress and climb into the shower, trying my best to avoid looking at the bench where Chance and I had sex on several occasions but failing. Before I met Chance, I never had sex in a shower because it seemed too intimate and after experiencing it with him, I still believe that to be true. My heart aches thinking about the way he held me and kissed me as steam billowed around us. With him, I felt cherished and loved even when I couldn't bear to entertain the possibility of us and that's why it was so easy to say yes to him Friday night. He made me believe I could find happiness.
Anger sparks inside me and I turn away from the bench, scrubbing my hair furiously like I'll somehow be able to erase him from my mind. I wish I could. I spent too many years letting my past control me and I won't give the same power to a man who doesn't deserve me. Even when just thinking his name hurts so much it's hard to breathe, I’ll hang on to this anger and use it to move forward but it doesn't get to control me.
Stepping out of the shower, I dry off before throwing my hair up in a towel and slipping my robe on as I stop in front of the mirror. My eyes still have some very dark circles underneath them that concealer will have to fix but other than that, I’m looking better. If only it was so easy to fix my heart. Sighing, I push off the counter and pad into the kitchen in search of a giant cup of coffee. I set my cup in the Keurig as it brews before turning and leaning back against the counter as I stare out the window. The dark gray clouds in the sky perfectly match my mood as rain streaks down the glass and thunder rumbles in the distance. It’s almost like the sky decided to pick up where I left off last night.
Someone knocks on the door, startling me and I jump, pressing my hand over my heart as I glance over at it. There is no way in hell I’m answering that. I already have a pretty good idea who it is and if I see him, I’m liable to punch him in the face. On second thought, though, that might make me feel better.
“Carly, I know you’re in there!” Chance yells through the door and I roll my eyes. Yeah, like that’s going to work. The Keurig dings and I flinch, wondering if he would be able to hear that through the door, before grabbing my cup and taking a tentative sip as he pounds on the door again. In any other apartment, I would be concerned that he was going to break it down but one of the features of this apartment was its reinforced doors – something my mother insisted on since I was a woman living on my own.
“Please, Princess,” he says, softer this time and fire spreads through my chest as tears well up in my eyes. Hell, no. He doesn’t get to call me that anymore. Slamming my cup down on the counter, I march over to the door and unlock the deadbolt before yanking it open. The sight of him in front of me almost breaks me but I somehow manage to hold it together. Straightening my spine, I meet his gaze head on.
“You do not get to call me that anymore,” I hiss, my voice dripping with venom that surprises even me a little. His mouth drops open before he snaps it shut again, unsure of what to say to me.