Dark Redemption - Charlotte Byrd Page 0,8

all the money that he gave me and my mother and I tell him that I'll never forget it even if we never speak again.

I leave this message a month after we’ve left Minnesota. Again, I still hear nothing.

I know that I should probably leave it alone. He’s angry with me. I have to let him go, but for some reason, I can’t.

Something within me forces me to keep trying. It can't be over just like that, right? I mean, he's going to forgive me, right?

He paid all this money. Yes, I got mad at him, but there were extenuating circumstances.

Why won't he answer my calls?

Why won't he at least talk to me?

Another month passes. Allison keeps telling me to forget about him, he’s not worth it, but I can’t.

I try of course.

I bury myself in schoolwork and in my thesis and try to enjoy the long summer evenings in the city.

I've gone on a few dates since I started school again, and even went out with a guy that Allison set me up with at work. He works in the marketing department as well, but on another project management team. The guy was nice enough, friendly, attractive, but the spark wasn't there. It's probably unfair to compare him to Dante, but for some reason, I'm now comparing everyone to Dante.

Then another idea pops into my head.

What if something happened?

What if he needs my help?

To try to clear my head, I let Allison convince me to go back to The Redemption. They're having their Midsummer's Eve Party, a large extravaganza out in a Hamptons mansion.

“This is where all the debauchery and craziness is going to happen,” she promises.

I roll my eyes.

"You have to go to this party with an open mind," Allison says. "We're going to have a little fun, meet some people, get down."

Maybe, I raise my eyebrow.

"I'm making no promises," I say.

“C’mon, you can't go to an event like this and not meet a few people.”

I shake my head no.

When Allison walks away from me, her long flowing dress bounces off the parquet floors of her pre-war apartment with enormous windows looking out onto West 86th street. She got a raise at work and is now making over $75,000 a year, and actually paid off her loans.

The Redemption club has become something of an addiction for her. She goes there to hook up with couples. She likes to be the guest star as she calls it. But if they want to pursue something more serious like a polyamorous relationship, she usually shoots them down. For her, the whole experience seems more about the attention than anything else.

"Are you going to go on a run with me or not?" I ask.

”Right now? Do you know how sticky it is out there?" Allison says, crossing her arms in front of her chest.

She descends into the luxurious chaise lounge in the corner, next to the enormous fica plant and motions for me to sit in a pink mid-century style chair with pins for legs.

I grab my mug of coffee and plop down. Somehow, I have managed to gain almost twelve pounds ever since my mother's surgery.

I wasn't particularly thin before, but this is the heaviest I've ever been.

"Look, I know that you're a little embarrassed because you have gained some weight, but don't worry about that. You'll look beautiful, glowing,” Allison says when I bring it up.

I stare at her defined and slim arms and suddenly feel incredibly ugly. She's not trying to make me feel bad, quite the opposite, but sometimes these emotions just take over.

“Nope, I’m going to go on a run,” I say. I'm pointing to my yoga pants and the loose fitting shirt. “I'm not just wearing all this to look cute.”

She smiles out of the corner of her lips.

I make one final offer, but she refuses again and I promise to be back in forty-five minutes.

I definitely can’t run that long, but it will be good to get forty-five minutes of some kind of exercise nevertheless.

I've been trying to get onto a diet or some sort of sensible eating plan for quite a while now. Going back to school, taking classes, and being relieved that my mom is actually okay, has had a strange effect on me. It forced me to relax and put my guard down and fill myself up with junk food.

The day is uncanny in its beauty: bright blue skies, warm, with just a little bit of breeze. Central Park is full of