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Chapter Twenty-One
Carly
The vase of white roses sitting in front of my apartment door stops me in my tracks as I step off the elevator and I sigh. Damn. I really wish there was a way to get into my apartment without picking them up. Why can’t he just let this go? Crossing the hallway, I stop in front of them and sigh again. I don’t need to read the card because I already know who they’re from and I don’t want to hear anything he has to say. What could he possibly say anyway? There’s nothing that will change the fact that he’s married or that he turned me into his mistress. Deep shame rises up inside me and I shift the bottle of wine I picked up on the way home to the crook of my arm as I bend down to grab the vase. As I jam my keys into the lock and open the door, I consider leaving them on my doorstep before shaking my head in annoyance and closing the door behind me.
My apartment is uncomfortably quiet as I flick on the lights and I wonder if I should have called Izzy or Ali to hang out instead of coming straight home after work. I set the flowers and wine down on the island before searching through the blooms for the card I promised myself I wouldn’t read. Pulling it out, I roll my eyes when I see the “I’m Sorry” printed on the front. Does he think that’s going to fix anything?
Carly,
I don’t know much about flowers but the woman at the shop said fifteen roses symbolize an apology so that’s what I ordered for you. I’ve been racking my brain, going over that night again and again in my head, but I still don’t understand what happened. Whatever it is, whatever I did to upset you, please know how sorry I am. I would never intentionally hurt you, baby. The night of the party, something changed between us and for a little while you were mine. It was everything I wanted and the greatest thing I’ve ever felt. I would fight for you until I took my last breath, but I’ll try and let you go if that’s what you really want. If this is really the end for us, I just need to hear you say it and I’ll be gone from your life forever.
Chance.
My heart seizes in my throat and the card falls out of my hand, fluttering to the floor as my mind races. I don’t know what to think about his note. On the one hand, this is exactly what I wanted but now that it’s a reality, I don’t know if I can push him away. God, is that what I want? The thought of losing Chance, of never seeing him again, is more devastating than I can even express. How can I even hurt this much? Didn’t he reach into my chest and tear my heart out when I discovered he was married? Jesus, what am I saying? He’s married. He promised his life to another woman and I have no right to want him like this. I have no right to love him.
Tears sting my eyes as I think about letting him go and before I can completely lose it, I grab my phone off the counter to distract myself. I check my messages for the millionth time today, hoping Ivy finally answered me but my messages are the only thing staring back at me. As I start pacing through the apartment, I dial her number. This was my original plan for after work and I’m not going to let Chance or his note derail that.
“Pick up the damn phone, Vi,” I whisper, my stomach churning. It’s been a long stressful day at work and I’ve worn down almost all my nails worrying about what Julian did to my sister last night. Her lack of contact today has me thinking the worst. At several points today, I sent up a prayer she’s just mad at me about not backing her up last night, but I can’t help but imagine the worst. Not with what I know now. Dottie hasn’t been much better, either, and she’s been texting non-stop to ask if I’ve heard from Ivy.
“Hello?” Ivy says into the phone and I let out a breath.
Thank God.
“Hey, what are you up to?” I ask, trying to sound casual. It doesn’t work. Even I can hear that my voice is higher than normal and my chest feels tight.
“Uh…” she hums, her voice dimming like she pulled the phone away from her ear and then she’s back. “Not much. Just unpacking some things I haven’t had a chance to get to yet.”
“Oh, okay. Well, do you want to grab dinner with me? I wanted to talk to you after last night.”
She pauses and my breath gets stuck in my throat. “Actually, I still have a lot to do but maybe I’ll call you back later, okay?”
“Yeah, okay,” I answer, my voice cracking and I purse my lips.
“Bye.” She doesn’t even wait for my reply before she hangs up and I pull the phone away from my ear, fighting back tears. Glancing down to where the phone sits in my hand, I stare at the black screen for a moment before sinking to the floor. What the hell am I supposed to do for her?
No matter how many times I think it over, I just can’t understand how she can stay with him. She has enough money to go anywhere in the world and if she had called Dottie or I, we would have been there for her in a heartbeat. The first time he laid a hand on her, she should have been out the door. Why can’t she see that?
Tears sting my eyes again and I grab onto the island to pull myself up before sliding my laptop in front of me and opening it. After bringing up the search engine, I type “abusive relationships” in the search bar and suck in a breath before pressing the arrow that will start my search. In an instant, pages of articles pop up in front of me with taglines that are intended to entice me to open them. It’s overwhelming. Clicking on the first one, I start reading and before long, I’m lost in article after article that make my heart ache. I can’t stop picturing what he’s doing to her when no one is around and even though I found some answers, I’m still struggling to understand why she wouldn’t just come to me. How scared does she have to be to not trust I would keep her safe?
A tear slips down my cheek and I brush it away, trying not to picture Ivy all broken down and bruised as I stand up and grab a wine glass from the cupboard. The tears keep coming as I pour wine into the glass and a knock at the door has me glancing over my shoulder.
“Shit.” I set the bottle down and quickly wipe my eyes, checking my reflection in the mirror to make sure my mascara isn’t smeared before I yank the door open. My heart jumps into my throat when Chance looks up, meeting my eyes.
“Chance,” I whisper, a riot of emotions rocking through me. Between his note and dealing with my sister, I feel like I’m being tossed around on an angry sea.
“Hey,” he answers, looking casual as ever except for the uncertainty in his eyes. He glances over my shoulder. “See you got my flowers.”
“Um, yeah.”
What exactly am I supposed to say here? It hurts to look at him and know he can never be mine. Why did I go and fall in love with the wrong guy again?
“Can I come in?” he asks and I blink in surprise. He doesn’t ask permission, ever, usually just preferring to bulldoze into my life whenever he pleases.
“I don’t think that’s such a good…”
My words are cut off by his deep growl as he shakes his head and strides into the room anyway, brushing up against me as he passes. The scent of that damn cinnamon gum lingers even after he passes and I have no idea how I’m going to fight him.
“What do you think you’re doing?” I snap, gripping the door tightly as I try to hold onto my anger. He grabs my glass of wine and chugs the entire thing.
