God knows how much later as I take in my surroundings, I know that someone is watching over me.
I’m alive.
The memories of last night flash before me—the light, the girl named Carla.
With my back resting against the dirty brick wall and the stale stench of trash surrounding me, I rub my face vigorously trying to come to terms with what happened.
I try to think about this more rationally.
Yes, she said the baby isn’t mine, but I remember what Bryce said about the psych ward. Is she reliving a memory, lying in a hospital bed, déjà vu and shit? I know Charlotte, and she wouldn’t actually fuck Julian, not willingly anyway. Maybe it was a one-time thing like after the Victoria shit that went down. No, that would’ve been too soon. If she already knew she was pregnant, then it would have happened at least over a month ago.
Okay, so maybe I wasn’t in the picture, that’s possible, but she wouldn’t do that me, not after everything we’ve been through. So realistically, say she fucked up once, and it is his, do I let go of her for a lifetime?
There’s only one question remaining.
Is she worth it?
I know the answer and fuck the fucking universe with all its fate and destiny bullshit. If I want something to happen, I’ll make it happen—no matter what it takes.
She was mine all along, and once again, I, Alexander Edwards, vow not to stop, not until she’s mine again.
CHARLIE
Time has become a blur since the night he left me. Well, should I say the night I foolishly pushed him away?
I no longer know what day it is, suspended in this ‘no man’s land’ struggling to climb out, looking for any sense of hope, but it’s impossible. I’m on a familiar downward spiral, and by the seventh day, I know it’s near. I’m about to fall into pieces and forcefully be thrown back to a place I swore I’d never return.
This isn’t how it’s supposed to be.
I was supposed to hurt him, push him away for good.
And the greatest punishment I bestowed upon myself is remorse.
With Coco nestled on my lap purring as I stroke behind her ear, I’m certain she senses a life forming inside of me. Her head is nestled into my stomach, her body pressing gently as if to protect my unborn child.
We sit for what feels like hours until the repetition of the moment I pushed him away becomes too much for my mind to process alone. With a desperate need to drown out the voices and seek external help, I dial his number, each ring fueling my desperation.
Just as I’m about to give up, on the verge of tears I had tried my hardest to hold back, he answers my call. The familiarity of his voice calms me, and with only a few words spoken, enough to express my desolation, he gives me a time and place to meet him.
I don’t sleep that night waiting for tomorrow. Tossing and turning, my dreams are plagued with nightmares, and after my third jolt of waking up in screams, I shower, dress, and sit on the couch willing the time to pass.
The coffee shop is a short cab ride away. In a more secluded part of the shop, I sit quietly wringing my hands until he arrives. Sitting down, he motions for the waiter to bring him an espresso as I order a decaf. I hate decaf.
Across from me, he watches with a pitiful gaze. I know by reaching out to him, I’m once again forever in his debt for what he has done for me. He smiles as he takes a sip of his espresso, his self-composure always confident, and a small part of me is intimidated by how much power this man has over me.
How decisions he chose affected my life—for the good or for the bad, the jury is still out on that one.
“Thank you for coming on such short notice.”
“Charlie, I know enough to know why you called me.”
With my hands shaking, I remain silent choking back the sob. He places his hand over mine, a gesture of comfort, of ease as I stare into his eyes.
Does he know what I’ve done?
Does he know the mistake I made?
“I don’t want to go back there… I don’t want to go back to that place.”
My chest begins to heave, and my breathing becomes difficult as the room becomes stifling hot. Knowing I’m on the verge of a panic attack, he