Chapter 20 Dove
DOVE
I’m drying my hands when my phone dings in my purse.
Hurrying to get them dry, I toss the paper towels in the trash and dig my phone out of my clutch.
I’m relieved when I don’t see my mom’s name across the screen.
It’s just a news alert, but it’s the headline that has me clutching the diamond necklace Winston got me.
Warrick Affair Stirs War
“What?” I panic, knowing it has to be about one of his brothers.
I know Winston is going to raise hell for his brothers to defend them and provide the best lawyers, not that they wouldn’t have their own, but Winston would make sure of it.
I click on the link, the page taking forever to load. When the text finally appears and the picture shows, I forget how to breathe. There’s no way I can be seeing what I think I am. It’s Winston, but that’s impossible because this is now. This picture of him is right at this moment.
“What? No, no, no, this…he wouldn’t do that to me.” The article is clearly from a paparazzi site, but these photos had to be taken when I left to go to the bathroom. How did they upload these photos so fast?
The woman has her hand on his chest.
The same woman is hugging him.
And he isn’t pushing her away.
Tears fall as if a dam has broken. My heart aches from the pain searing through it.
I don’t understand, and I can’t talk to him here, not in front of all these people.
Should I talk to him? Does it matter? I mean, this isn’t my kind of event.
I’m so far out of Winston’s league. We made a baby together, but a life?
I’m not one for galas and jewels. I never have been.
What am I doing here?
I tuck my phone back in my clutch and stare at myself in the mirror, wiping my tears away before my mascara has a chance to stain my face. Taking a deep breath, I glance to the door I entered through, not ready to walk through it again.
This is so common. I always run when I get scared, but I don’t know what else to do.
To the right is another door that exits the bathroom on the other side, and in my emotional snap decision, I run through the heavy, gold-trimmed door. I don’t look at anyone. I keep my head down, careful not to bump into anyone since I can see their feet.
I have no idea where the hell I’m going. I look up, searching for a way out, and all eyes are on me. People in designer gowns and fancy suits stare at me in pity, whispering to one another as if I’m the issue, as if I’m the problem.
Hiding behind a round pillar, I take a deep breath, forcing my tears not to fall. Out of the corner of my eye, I see a glare against a window.
Headlights.
Rushing toward the doors, I bump into a few people that I know I’ve never met.
They mumble their unhappiness about their drink spilling over the rim of the champagne flutes.
They sigh and huff in annoyance. I shove open the door that leads outside, the cool night air hitting me in the face.
The slight breeze dries my tears, and I race to the edge of the sidewalk, raising my hand to hail a taxi.
The yellow cab pulls over to the side, the brakes slightly squeaking. I slide in across the worn leather bucket seats. There’s a scent in the air that has my nose scrunch. A mix of sweat and cigarette smoke.
“Where to?” the driver asks.
I stare at the hotel where the lavish party is. People pass me by on the sidewalk in their expensive gowns and tuxedos, reminding me again that that’s not the life I’ve ever had. Winston deserves to be with someone who won’t taint his Warrick name.
And that’s all I’ll do.
A girl who worked for his enemy? I can see stories plastered everywhere now, saying that I’m just money hungry and that I trapped Winston with a baby.
I wipe my cheek again and rattle off an address to the driver. The cab pulls forward, leaving the gala behind, and I can finally take a breath. My phone dings over and over again in my clutch.
“Are you going to get that?” the driver asks.
I dig into the clutch and switch my phone to silent. “No, sorry about that. I hope it didn’t distract you.”
“You’re fine. Is everything okay?” He peeks into the rearview mirror and our eyes meet. “You’ve been crying. Did something happen?”
“I’ll be fine. I just need to see my son and I’ll be okay again.” It’s true. I miss baby Winston like crazy. It helps cover the main issue of my heart and mind being pulled in two different directions.
The driver grins. “Ah, yes. I remember when my wife had our first child. A daughter! I was beside myself. I had no idea what to do. I worried all day every day. I slept in her nursery to be close. I was obsessed with knowing she was safe.”
“Exactly. My parents have him, but it’s the first night I’m away. I know he is fine.”
“I understand completely. You don’t need to explain. We’ll be there soon.”
“Thank you so much.”
The ride falls into a comfortable silence.
I lean my head against the window, crying silently as the negative thoughts get in the way.
My mind is racing. In my heart, I know there’s more to the story that I should hear from Winston.
I know that it probably isn’t what it seems, but my mind?
My mind is poisoning me with so many different scenarios and they are what’s in control right now.
I know if I talk to him, everything will be fine.
Yet I’m still running because these photos reminded me of the one thing I’ve been burying inside me ever since I met Winston.
Why would a guy like him want a woman like me?
I don’t have money, or status, or connections.
Hell, I don’t even have a career now, and I don’t know what I want to do with my life.
It reminds me that our age reflects where we are in life.
I stare down at the giant emerald gemstone on my finger, surrounded by diamonds. I don’t deserve such luxuries. I can’t take it off because it would mean that my relationship with Winston is over.
My phone vibrates on repeat to the point that I finally check it. I ignore all the texts and calls when I see another news notification from that same site.
Fiancée of Winston Warrick Flees.
“Oh my god. No. No, no, no.” I scroll the page, gritting my teeth together when there are photos of me walking through the crowd, crying. Even a photo of me leaning against the pillar to gather myself.
I slam my phone onto the seat and shake my head, ashamed of myself for running away without saying a word. Now, every person in the city knows what happened.
The city lights must have blurred together as we drove since we’re already pulling into the driveway of my parents’ house.
Hanson’s car is here.
“Thank you for getting me here safely.” I hand him the cash to pay for the ride and leave him a nice tip. “Have a good night.”
“I know your night sky has no stars right now, but you’re about to hold the brightest star in the world. How amazing is that?” he says with a bright, positive smile.
I give him a smile, closing the door gently. “Thank you for that.”
He waves with genuine joy, then reverses out of the driveway, the red taillights fading into the distance.
A long groan has the tension in my shoulders sag. I’d know that sound from anywhere. It’s the front door opening. I spin around to see my mom standing on the porch, my dad behind her holding Winston, and Hanson steps out too.
Mom holds out her arms for me and I run the best I can in these heels and tight dress. The heels are loud in the quiet night, the fast taps gaining speed with every step I take. When I climb up the concrete steps, I throw my arms around my mom.
She gives me a tight hug, patting my back. “Come on, sweetie. Let’s go inside. Let’s get you into comfortable clothes. My grandbaby has been crying nonstop. He cries himself to sleep and then wakes up crying. He has no fever or anything.”
“It’s okay. I know what he needs.” I step forward, pausing in front of Hanson. “You’re here? I mean, that’s fine that you’re here.”
“I saw what happened. Your mom texted me to come over. She knew you’d be on your way. She told me you’d need your best friend, so I’m here.”
My bottom lip wobbles as I turn my chin to my shoulder. “Thank you, Mom.”
Hanson comes in and gives me a hug. It feels good to have him back in my life.
I know so many people wanted us to be together, but even now, the only man in my heart is Winston.
I love him and I know I need to call him.
But I need some time to get my thoughts together.
I want to know what I want to say when I talk to him about why I ran away so easily.
That isn’t fair to him.
My son begins to wail so loud, it has me flinching from how it echoes in my eardrum. “Goodness, baby. I have you. You’re okay.” I kick my shoes off, holding out my hands for Dad to give me Winston. Cradling him, I dance. Nothing fancy, just a slow and simple waltz around the room.
My son’s eyes find mine and he smiles, his cries stopping as if he never cried at all.
“How in the world did you figure out how to do that?” Hanson asks, recording me.
“When he gets real fussy, Winston does the waltz with him. I watched so I learned the steps.” I close my eyes when they begin to burn again with tears. Placing baby Winston down in the bassinet, I turn on the music of a slow waltz, the beat perfect to keep him asleep.
“Come on, let’s go change, sweetie. Hanson and your dad will watch him. You can talk to me about what’s going on.” My mom takes my hand, gently tugging me behind her into my parents’ bedroom and closing the door.
We don’t say anything at first. She unzips my dress and I hold my hair to the side so it doesn’t get caught in the zipper.
I step out of the expensive gown, and Mom lays it flat on the bed, snagging a big T-shirt and sweatpants from her dresser.
Slipping them on, I head to the bathroom to wash the makeup off my face.
“I saw the photos, Dove.”
“I don’t want to talk about it, Mom.”