Charlotte waves that idea away with a swat of her hand. “Don’t worry about that. We’ve got it covered,” she says, referring to her and Roman, who are getting hitched tomorrow.
They can say not to worry about it all they want, but I can’t let Roman keep me up for the rest of my life. Eventually I’m going to have to get back out there and try to have a normal life.
A lonely life, but normal hopefully.
It seems like everyone around me is moving forward. Charlotte and Roman are getting married, Winston and Zoe have a baby on the way, and here I am, feeling like I’m frozen in place, waiting for…something.
Someone.
Verek.
That son of a bitch!
I knew he was going to leave town, but I thought he would at least call or text me occasionally to check in.
He’s been gone for six months without a word after finally awakening something in me that I thought was gone forever.
I’m still pretty pissed at Roman for going off on Verek, but I’ve tried to be cordial and polite while living in his house after all he did for me – paying for those two months at the psychiatric facility and letting me move in, then getting me this great apartment.
As if sensing my anger, Lola, my new black Lab, a trained support companion, comes over and puts her chin on my knee, her big brown eyes appraising me. I give her a rub, scratching her ears which of course puts a smile on my face. It really has helped these last few days, having her near me.
I’ve been sleeping better these past months, having fewer nightmares, not that my psychiatrist knows exactly why those have faded. I’m still not sure how I’ll do sleeping alone here tomorrow night for the first time.
For the past two nights, much to Roman’s displeasure, Charlotte has been sleeping over to help me get acclimated to the new place, and tonight she’s staying because the bride isn’t supposed to see the groom before the wedding.
“She really helps, doesn’t she?” Charlotte asks when she comes to sit next to me on the sofa.
“She does,” I agree as I pat the sofa cushion between us for Lola to jump up. She does right away, spinning in a quick circle before she collapses and places her head in my lap.
“Such a sweet girl,” Charlotte coos as she rubs her back.
Since it’s been several days since the last time I inquired, I try to sound casual when I ask, “So, um, has Roman heard anything from Verek lately?”
“Nope, still not a word as far as I know.”
“Well, have you asked him?”
“Of course I have!” she replies. “He hasn’t called or texted you either?”
“No.”
“What about Paul?” she questions which is also the typical way that this conversation usually goes.
“Yes, he’s still calling and texting.”
“Every day?” she asks with a smile.
“Unfortunately, yes,” I mutter.
“That’s a good thing, though!” Charlotte exclaims. “Why are you thinking about the man you haven’t heard from when the sweet, wonderful, devoted man you love doesn’t let a day go by without seeing how you’re doing?”
“Because…it’s not the same,” I tell her for the millionth time.
“Paul would never let anything happen to you,” she says softly.
“That’s not why I can’t be with him, and you know it.”
“Right, you’ve convinced yourself that you can never rekindle the flames of desire with Paul,” Charlotte grumbles.
“I don’t think I can.” Not when there wasn’t any passion there in the first place.
“Maybe it’s just going to take more time before you’re able to…rekindle with anyone! Have you considered that notion?” she asks.
I never told Charlotte what happened between me and Verek while we were gone those few days. If I tell her the truth, hopefully she’ll back off and stop pushing Paul at me every other day.
“There was definitely some…rekindling with Verek,” I finally admit to her, using her word since I’m not sure there’s one better.
“What? When?”
“While we were traveling together,” I respond.
“You and Verek?” she asks, eyebrows raised in surprise.
“We didn’t have sex, but we did some other things…”
“Like what?” she whispers, turning to face me on the sofa.
“I may have got into the shower with him and gave him a hand…”
“You did?” Charlotte replies with a smile. “Oh my god! Why didn’t you tell me?”
“Because it was just once. We kissed, a few times, but nothing else happened. But it could have, if he hadn’t left!”
“Why didn’t you tell Roman? He might have gone easier on Verek,” she says.
“I don’t want to talk about this sort of thing with Roman!”
“Well, he probably wouldn’t have changed his mind about how angry he was anyway,” Charlotte admits. “He’s awfully stubborn, which can come in handy sometimes but not others.” She pauses for a second before asking, “Did you want to do other things with Verek?”
“I did. I still do,” I admit. “Even if he is a jackass for not calling.”
“In that case, let me talk to Roman while we’re away, not to go into details, but to at least put in a good word to see if he’ll try and convince him to come back.”
“Fine,” I agree. “But no details.”
“Absolutely not,” Charlotte replies. “It’s just, I honestly didn’t think you could see a future with Verek. He’s more of the…temporary kind of guy who looks like he’s a lot of fun but wouldn’t stick around.”
“He didn’t leave because he wanted to!” I remind her. “The other guys thought it would be best until Roman calmed down.”
“You’re right. I didn’t give Verek the benefit of the doubt. When we get back from Aruba, I bet Roman will be ready to see him again.”
“You know if you fuck him enough times, that man would do anything for you,” I tease, and Charlotte laughs out loud.
“Wow, I think that’s the first time you’ve used the f-word in a long time!” she jokes.
And I know exactly what she means by “a long time.”
Since the night I was kidnapped, I don’t think I’ve used that term because fuck was the definition of the vulgar, violent, humiliating things that were done to me.
But those men are dead, and I’m still alive with a full life ahead of me, if I can find the courage to live it.
Chapter Eighteen
Verek
* * *
There’s a long line of bikes parked out front of the clubhouse, with a few mixed in that I don’t recognize. Everyone has showed out to support our president on his big day.
Roman’s a great guy. Even I still think so, despite the circumstances.
Here’s hoping Cannon is right and he’s in a forgiving mood tonight.
Once I back my bike into an empty parking spot near the back of the lot, I kill the engine and pull out my phone, sending a short message to Cannon.