Chapter Nineteen
CHASE
Dax and I have been sitting back, catching up.
Over the past four months, I’ve missed my best friend, and I feel bad for shutting him out.
I was so lost and caught up in Lyric that I let myself become that guy.
The guy who dropped everything. Not that it’s a bad thing because Lyric’s worth it, but because I was so invested in the lie I was creating, in the persona I was forging for Lyric, I was sheltering her from this world, from my real world.
From my real friends and my family, and that’s not okay.
If I want her to know the real me, to love the real me, then she needs to know my friends and family. She needs to know me.
Dax is somehow making the ache in my chest, the pain riddling my entire body, seem just a little more bearable. As much as I want her back, I can’t stop thinking about how wrecked she must be because of me.
Mary-B strides into my office with a basket stuffed with more shit than a survival pack.
It’s overflowing with color, cellophane, and what looks suspiciously like something fuzzy peeking out the side.
She marches over, heels clicking like she owns the damn place, and plonks it on the table with a proud flourish.
“Okay, boys,” she says, clapping her hands once like a game show host unveiling the grand prize.
“Red Vines and Fun Dip, because who doesn’t love to gnaw on pure sugar.
Also, a chilled bottle of champagne, because obviously.
And these…” she gestures with a flourish, “… loose rose petals. I scattered them in there to give it that romantic vibe without being…” she looks me up and down with a huff, “… desperate.”
Dax chuckles, and I glare at him while she starts pulling items out like she’s on The Home Shopping Network.
“This little game is my favorite. It’s a parrot-themed mini basketball hoop.
For no reason other than it’s weird and cute and I couldn’t resist. And this guy…
” She lifts a small plush bear with a deadpan expression and the words ‘I’m an idiot’ stitched across its chest. “Seems fitting, no?”
I blink at the bear, then at the parrot game, then back at Mary-B, who’s practically vibrating with pride.
How the hell she managed to nail Lyric’s vibe with this weird-ass combo, I have no idea.
But she did. Somehow. It’s a mix of quirky, sweet, and just the right amount of sincere apology without crossing into pathetic territory.
And I have to admit, the bear’s a goddamn genius move.
Dax tilts his head, smirking like he’s been waiting for me to acknowledge it. His expression practically reads, ‘Told you she’s a damn wizard.’ “As always, Mary-B, you rocked this shit!”
Mary-B beams under the praise. “I know… I’m amazing.”
I rub the back of my neck, still thrown by the chaos. “Yeah, you kinda are. This is…” I glance at the basket again, baffled but impressed, “… exactly what I’m after.”
She shrugs. “I know.” She winks at Dax. “I’ll put it all together in the basket. Here…” She shoves a card at me. “You need to do this part. Think of something nice, you know, heartfelt. Meaningful, but don’t be a sappy douche.”
On the front of the card is a picture of a goat with ‘I’m sorry, I’ve been baaad’ written in script font. It’s cute as fuck!
How the hell does Mary-B know about Lyric’s newfound love of goats? Or, maybe it’s just a coincidence, and it’s meant to be. Either way, this card is perfect.
Dax reaches out, placing his hand on my shoulder. “I’ll give you a minute,” he offers, tilting his head to Mary-B. She picks up the basket of goodies, and they both walk down to the main conference room.
I take a deep breath.
This is important.
This is my first connection point with Lyric since everything happened, aside from my text and showing up at her house, of course.
So, whatever I say in this card has to mean something and be from my heart.
It has to tell her how I feel. The card is small, so I can’t explain everything, but I can at least start.
I take out my finest pen and start to write.
My dearest Starlight,
You have to know I never meant for any of this to happen.
I didn’t enter into our relationship with a plan to lie to you or to carry on that lie for months.
Things got out of hand. I own my mistake, and it’s a massive one.
I will never forgive myself for losing you, Lyri.
You are the single greatest thing in my life.
I didn’t tell you everything because I love you.
That was never a lie. Please believe that.
I will do whatever you need to make this up to you.
My life is nothing if you’re not in it.
Because honestly, I didn’t start living until I met you.
Forever,
Your Hallmark.
P.S. I hope Polly is eating his apple. If not, I will come by and give it to him anytime you need me. Love you both. xo
I place my pen on the table—it was cathartic getting that out. I need Lyric to know that even if she doesn’t want me, I’m not going anywhere. I’m going to be right here.
I wave the card through the air, letting the ink set, while exhaling a deep breath, unsure how she will receive my words.
She may love them.
She may hate them.
Hell, knowing Lyric, she may set the card on fire in her backyard and dance around it in her underwear like she’s burning an effigy.
Let’s face it, she is that freaking sassy.
With the card, I walk out to Dax and Mary-B to see them wrapping the basket and flirting like there’s no tomorrow. I swear Dax will flirt with anything with breasts. I think he would flirt with a roast chicken, given half the chance.
Still waving the card in my hand, I say, “Finished.”
Mary-B turns with genuine excitement. “Great! I hope you made it count.” She snaps it from my fingers, then places it inside the basket.
It’s not half bad. Between the two of them, they’ve done a great job. Mary-B pulls up the cellophane, tying it at the top with a yellow bow. Lyric’s favorite color. Again, I don’t know if she somehow knew or if that’s a coincidence too. Maybe Mary-B is really that amazing at her job.
“Right, Mr. Covington, if you could place the address here for me, I’ll go ahead and deliver this for you,” Mary-B announces as she finishes the final touches.
It looks great. I can’t help but think Lyric will be impressed with my well-thought-out gift basket. Things from our first date and our road trip. It should remind her how good we are together.
I jot down Lyric’s address for Mary-B.
She winks at Dax, picks up the basket, and then heads off.
“Mary-B,” I call out. She turns back, void of emotion. “Thank you.”
She dips her head, then spins around, and continues to leave.
Dax slaps my shoulder. “Phase one is set in motion, big man.”
A tightness coils in my chest, my foot tapping restlessly against the floor as I try to ignore the itch crawling beneath my skin. I have no idea how Lyric’s going to react. “It’s been a big day. Hell, a big twenty-four hours. I think I’m gonna head home and catch up on some sleep.”
Dax grunts while shaking his head. “Sleep’s for pussies. We need to be celebrating the start of Lyrical Revival. We’re well into phase one. We can’t wimp out now.”
I let out a laugh. “Lyrical Revival… that code name’s gonna stick, isn’t it?”
Dax nods matter-of-factly. “Oh, hell, yeah.”
“Maybe another time. I need to go home and unwind.”
Dax groans. “Pussy!”
I ignore him but make the move to leave. It is a Sunday, after all, and I don’t really need to be here. So I duck out of the building, a low thrum of unease settling in my gut as I head for the car. I don’t know why I’m doing this. Maybe I need to feel like I’m still part of this in some way.
Still connected.
Still trying.
Sliding behind the wheel, I pull out and follow the route I watched Mary-B take, tension tightening across my shoulders with every turn.
I don’t want to interfere. I just… I need to know if Lyric’s okay and that she got the gift. That she didn’t throw it back in Mary-B’s face or slam the door on her. Hell, I’d even take a neutral reaction if it means she’s not hurting as badly as I think she is.
I know how this looks.
Sitting in my car, watching from a distance like I’ve got a damn tracking anklet under my jeans. But after everything I’ve lied about, catfished my way through, what’s one more morally gray decision on the pile?
I’m a convicted felon.
May as well act like one.
I drive like the law doesn’t apply to me, the engine growling beneath my grip as I gun it down the streets, my eyes locked on the sedan ahead.
The second I spot Mary-B turning into Lyric’s driveway, I ease off, pulling in a little farther down the road, cutting the engine, and jumping out before I can second-guess myself.
This is reckless.
This is borderline insanity.
But it’s also all I’ve got left.
My shoes hit the pavement with quick, heavy steps, pulse thumping like a drumline in my chest. I keep low, angling in the opposite direction of Mary-B’s path so I don’t draw her attention.
She’s too preoccupied, fiddling with the gift basket, rearranging things like it’s a goddamn art installation. Thank Christ for that.
I slip behind the hedge lining the front of the property, muscles tight as I creep along the edge of the house.
The air’s cold, but my shirt clings to my back with sweat, the weight of everything pressing in on me as I crouch low near the front bay window.
The shrubs scratch my arms, the branches stiff and unforgiving, but I stay down, shifting carefully as I move into position.
My breath is shallow.
My heart rate is not.
I wipe a hand down my face, muttering low under my breath, “Get your shit together, man.”
Inside, I catch a glimpse of Lyric. She doesn’t look angry. She doesn’t look anything. And that’s somehow worse.