Afterthoughts: A Charity McAdams Novella (The Charity McAdams Novellas) (12 page)

“No, not ever.”

He releases my other hand and sits back from the table.
“Why not?
Because of what that other guy did?” He looks angry now. “I’m not going to be like that clown that abandoned you. I’m here for you. Haven’t I always been?
Since day one of this
relationship.
Sure, sometimes I work late, but that’s different. If you
really
need
ed
me, you know I would be there.
Always.
Don’t you know that by now?”

Tears spring to my eyes and I feel the urge to bolt again. I force myself to stay seated. I lean forward and try to grab for his hands but he pulls back and crosses his arms across his chest instead.

“James, I’m sorry. I can’t marry you, not today, not tomorrow,
not
ever. It’s not because of anything you have ever done or not done.”

“Then why?” He demands.

“Because I’m,” my voice breaks. “I’m in love with someone else.”

“You’re what!”
James reels back even farther, looking like someone just slapped him across th
e face.

“I’m in love with someone else,” I repeat
quietly, not meeting his eyes.

He fumbles at his pocket and pulls out a small b
ox. “Do you know what this is?”

I watch, horrified, as he pops it open to reveal a ring. It looks like a white gold or platinum
band with a solitaire emerald.

“This is a promise ring, I knew you weren’t ready to get engaged but I wanted something
…something tangible to cement
our commitment and so I got you this,” he continues.

“I’m so sorry,” I repeat. I know I should say something else but I can’t form complete sentences, at least not ones that would help ease this situation.

“You spill your guts to me about how that guy hurt you and scarred you for life when you dumped you before your wedding, but you know what? You’re doing the exact same thing to me. You lead me on for nine months and dump me right when I realize I don’t want to live without you anymore.”

“I’m so sorry
James, that
was never my intention--” I start to explain.

“It doesn’t matter, Charity, it really doesn’t matter. Just leave please, leave me alone.”

I hang my head, knowing I can’t defend myself.

I wait a moment before rising, trying to deci
de if I should say something further but I know that nothing will make a difference. I’ve broken his heart and there is nothing I can do to change that.

I stand and leave the restaurant, forcing myself to not look back.

I cruise on autopilot back to town
, trying not to think or feel. Before I fully realize what I’
m doing, I find myself parked in front of the Beverly Inn.
I lean forw
ard on the steering wheel for a mo
ment and let out a slow exhale.

I fidget with my scarf for a few minutes, silently debating what to do, before getting out of the car and going to find Brandon. Before leaving last night, he had given me his cell phone number and his room number so that I could contact him when I was ready to talk.

The inn is very small, only
about dozen rooms so it doesn’t
take
long to locate his room. The light is on and I can hear the TV muffled through the door. I take a deep breath and knock
softly
.

A moment later the door swings open and Brandon is standing there in jeans and a hoodie sweatshirt, beaming at me. His smile falters slightly as he studies my face. “Cherry, what’s wrong?” He asks, ushering me inside and closing the door behind us. He reaches for me but stops himself and puts his hands in his pockets, looking unsure
of what to do
.

“It’s over, with James,” I say, almost in a daze. My eyes are red and poufy feeling from crying most of the drive back to town.
“He had a ring, Brandon, a ring!”

Brandon swears under his breath and
pushes a hand through his hair.

“I broke his heart, smashed it, just like what you did to me,” I continue, quietly.

Brandon shifts his gaze to the floor and for a long moment, neither one of us speaks.

“Did you love him?” he asks, raising his gaze to mine. There i
s something strange in
his eyes and
it t
akes me a moment to realize that it’
s fear.

“No,” I shake my head. “I think I lo
ved the idea of him, and I did care
about him a lot, but
, no,
I wasn’t in love with him.”

Brandon looks relieved. He holds out his hands and I take them, stepping closer to him.

“What did you tell him?” He asks.

“That I’m in love
with someone else,” I breathe.

“Are you now? Anyone I know?” Brandon teases, trying to lighten the mood.

I can’t help but laugh. I roll my eyes and punch him lightly on the forearm.
“
Yes, Heaven help me,
I’m in love with you.”

He smiles and closes the remaining distance between
us. H
e cups my face in his hands and whispers, “And I’m in love with you.”

He kisses me slowly for a few minutes before stepping back. “I have something to show you,” he says suddenly. He lets go of me long enough to pick up
some sort of tablet from the bed.
He has an excited gleam in his eyes
when he turns back to me. “I called my manager today and he is
gonna
work it out so that I can have the next three months
off before starting my next project
. I was trying to convince my mom to come to California and see a specialist for a second opinion,
before her surgery,
to make su
re she is getting the best advice. S
he won’t go
to California
, but she did agree to let me get her
an appointment with someone here
.”

He turns on the tablet and pulls up a webpage for one of the most prestigious hospitals in Seattle. He flicks to a page with all sorts of information about their Oncology department and starts rattling off
all
the different statistics regarding a particular team of doctors and how h
e pulled some strings to get his
mom an appointment a week from now.

I ask questions and he does his best to answer them as he whizzes around the different websites he has saved. I can’t help but smile alo
ng as he speaks. Although there’
s
still an edge of nervousness to
his voice, he seems much more hopeful a
nd I can tell that he feels better knowing that
he is making a
ble to make a
contribution to his moms care.

“So you’ll be here for the next three months?” I ask when he finishes s
howing me everything and sets
the tablet aside.

He nods and kisses me again. “Yeah, I am.”

I smile, pract
ically bursting with happiness.

“And then, after that, I was hoping you would
consider coming
to California with me,” he says, looking almost nervous.

My eyebrows shoot up.
“Really?
Brandon I--
”

He interrupts, “You don’t have to decide right now, you’ve had a quite a night, quite a weekend, really. I just want you to think about it. Please?”

I nod.

“
Good.
Alright, now, where were we?” He asks with a mischievous grin before pulling me back into his arms.

I laugh
. “Right about here,” I say playfully, before wrapping my arms around him and pressing my lips softly to his.

**
*

I wake the next morning and it takes me a second to remember where I am. I
stretch against Brandon and then
relax into the comforting fee
l of his arms wrapped around me and his skin against mine.

“
Mornin
’ Beautiful,” he mumb
les into my ear.

“
Morning,” I reply, rolling over to face him. He kisses my forehead and I smile up at him, amazed by how he can manage to look so hot first thing in the morning. He has some definite scruffiness and i
t’s making me a little twitchy.

Brandon smiles lazily down at me. He traces a finger along my cheek and then down my neck, fol
lowing the trail with his lips.
Little shivers shoot through me with every kiss and when hits the hollow underneath my collarbone I stop thinking…

An hour later, Brandon decl
ares he needs something to eat.

“Typical man,” I tease as he gets dressed.

He c
hucks a pillow at me and laughs.
“Hey, I didn’t hear any complaints a
bout my
manly ways
a few minutes ago,
”
he says
,
with a wink.

I grin at him. “Yeah, yeah,” I say. I sit up and gather the sheets up around me. “Do you want me to go with you?”

He shakes his head. “Nope, I want you to keep your beautiful ass right where it is,” he answers with a wink. “They have a spread out in the lobby.
Muffins, bagels, and coffee.
I’ll go load up a plate and be right back.”

He drops a kiss on my forehe
ad before pulling on his hoodie. He stands by the door for a moment, just staring at m
e with a goofy, sideways smile.

“What? Is my hair totally tweaking?” I ask, running my fingers through the tangled bed head mess.

“No, you look perfect. I just can’t believe you’re here, with me,” he answers quietly.

I feel myself blush.

He gives one last look and then turns and leaves, shutting the door behind him.

I sigh
contentedly and lean back against the headboard.
The last few days have been such a blur of chaos and emotion but when Brandon and I were together last night
, and again this morning, it seemed
like everything else stopped swirling around us and
the world moved in slow motion.

It was perfect.

A soft knock on the door interrupts my train of thought. I laugh to myself, imagining Brandon standing there, his arms too full of food to do the keycard for the door. I get off the bed and wrap the sheet tightly around myself, part of it trailing behind me as I cross
the room and pop open the door.

I gasp when I realize that Vanessa Blair is standing on the welcome mat, in all her Hollywood glory.

“Who the hell are you?!” She shrieks, ripping the oversized sunglasses off her face.

I panic and slam the door. I’m practically panting as I l
ean back against it
.
I only get a split second reprieve before I am forced forward as she barges through the door
anyways
.

Probably should have locked that
, I think to m
yself as I tumble to the floor.

“I asked you a question!” she yel
ls as she bursts into the room.

The next few minutes play out like a scene from
The
Real Housewives of Orange County. As I turn to gather my sheet she lunges forward, screaming and scratching. I huddle on the floor, trying my best t
o keep away from her fake nails that seem to double as
talons as she flings her arms in
the air.

I can’t understand most of what she is screaming.
Something about me being a home-wrecking, whore.

Where is Ashley when you need her? Ashley would have thrown this chick out on her ass by now. She has brothers and grew up learning how to be scrappy and fight dirty.

“Oh shit!”
I hear Brandon enter the fray.

Within a few seconds he has he
r
hauled off of me and manages to restrain her arms
at her sides so sh
e can’t assault anyone further.

“Cherry, are you alright?” He asks over his shoulder.

“Cherry? What are you a stripper?” Vanessa sneers. “Or is that your hooker name?”

My mouth drops open but for the life of me, I can’t think of anything to say.

“Vanessa, shut the hell up,”
he growls. He releases her with a warning look. She backs up but her fists are still clenched and her eyes are narrowed, in my direction.