Chapter 19 #2
“It’s been six months,” Alec says, like I’ve not been aware of every single day since everything happened.
“Maybe it’s time to talk to him, get closure, and shut the door on the relationship, once and for all.
” His words settle like a stone, and something about my expression has his mouth curling at the edges.
“Or talk to him and see if there’s a way forward. ”
“There’s no way forward,” I insist. “You know what he said. What he did.”
“I know,” he agrees easily. “Think of me as an unbiased party. I didn’t know either of you well before it all happened, but I can see the aftermath.
” He lifts a shoulder. “I can’t say whether he’s learned from what he did, but he’s been paying for his crimes since.
Don’t you think?” He tilts his head, a small smile playing on his lips. “He lost you, after all.”
I roll my lips inward, looking away, but Alec isn’t finished. “You gotta ask yourself…Why were you okay with Barrett inviting him to hang out? He seems to be warming up to him, even if he does keep giving the guy hell.”
“There were conditions,” I mutter.
“Why let it happen in the first place?” he asks insistently.
“It had nothing to do with me,” I tell him firmly. “Dillon needed better friends in his life than what he had, and I was just”—I look away, mouth working—“sharing mine. It doesn’t mean I care about him, because I don’t.”
Alec eyes me with no small amount of disbelief, but he doesn’t bother arguing. Instead, he sets his coffee down and stands up. “Well, I need to piss, so you can keep telling yourself that you don’t care while you’re talking to him.”
My eyes bounce over to where Dillon’s grabbed his takeaway cup and is heading our way. I hiss, “Don’t you dare leave me al—”
Alec’s already walked away. I watch him go, my heart in my throat, but then Dillon’s standing there, his eyes fastened to my face.
“Charlie,” he says my name reverently—adoringly—like it hasn’t been half a year since we last laid eyes on each other. “It’s really good to see you.” His hazel eyes flick between me and the empty seat before sliding over to the door Alec disappeared through.
I don’t invite him to sit down. The words are on the tip of my tongue, but I press my lips together, staring up at him silently.
Dillon looks different, which surprises me.
In my mind, he was frozen—exactly the same as the day I left.
Now, a short, well-trimmed beard covers his jaw.
His hair is longer, too. I fixate on the way it curls over his collar, wondering if he has let it get like that because he couldn’t be bothered cutting it or…
My breath catches in my throat, unable to stop the image of someone else dragging her fingers through it, scratching her nails against the back of his neck, the way he likes.
If he’s found someone else, I can’t blame him for it. I don’t. It’s not like I’ve been sitting around, waiting for him. And yet, the logic does nothing to dampen the hurt and jealousy creeping through me.
“I’ve missed you,” Dillon says. I blink him into focus, surprise washing over me. He steps closer, his hand too tight around the takeaway cup, the paper beginning to crumple in his hold. I eye it warily, and he sets it down, stepping back like he just released a bomb, his cheeks flushing.
The last thing I want to feel is amused, and yet, I find myself biting back a smile, not used to him being this nervous around me.
“Are you—” Dillon’s eyes flit to the bathroom door. “You’re here with Alec?”
I rest my arms on the tabletop. “Yeah, I am. But I’m not with him.” His shoulders drop with relief until I add, “Anymore.”
The color drains from his face so fast, I’m worried he might actually faint. His mouth opens and shuts, and a small kindling of guilt tries to spark to life in my chest.
I smother it ruthlessly.
He doesn’t deserve my guilt. I don’t owe him anything, especially when he was the one to burn us to the ground. I deserved better, and I don’t need to feel guilty for finding it, even if it didn’t work out for Alec and me.
“That’s good,” Dillon mumbles, resignation pulling his mouth down. “I’m glad. I didn’t realize. I—” He cuts himself off, looking away. “I wanted to reach out…”
I don’t know what to say to him. I wasn’t prepared for this, least of all today. My mouth is too dry, and I pick up my coffee, trying to hide the way my hand is shaking.
“Are you happy, Charlie?”
I open my mouth to answer, but Alec reappears, stepping around Dillon to retake his seat. “Hey, man,” he says cheerfully. “How’s it going?”
Dillon’s eyes bounce between us, his expression tortured. I wonder if he’s picturing me with Alec—the same way I pictured him and Marisa together. It’s petty and beneath me, but I kind of like evening out the scales between us.
Marisa assured me it was only ever that one time between them, and she was horrified when she realized Dillon had never told me. Nothing she said diminished the fact that it felt like he had deliberately hidden it.
“Hey,” Dillon greets stiffly, turning back to me. “Charlie…I’d really like to talk sometime. If that’s alright with you.” His tone is hopeful, quiet—as non-threatening as he can possibly make it.
My throat is tight and scratchy, uncertainty filling my chest. Seeing him is bringing everything back—all the hurt I worked so hard to overcome. With the pain also comes feelings, sweeping in like a tidal wave, as strong as ever, and I hate myself for that.
“I don’t know,” I say honestly, leaning back in my chair. “I’m not sure I’m ready to talk, or that I want to.”
His throat bobs. “That’s fair. I’ve, uh…
I’ve got a new number. Can I give it to you?
Just in case. You don’t want to talk, you never use it.
If you change your mind…” He lifts his shoulder in an awkward shrug.
Across from me, Alec smirks, miming an explosion with his hands, and Dillon’s face gets redder as he shoots a glare at him, mumbling, “Shut up.”
“Didn’t say a word,” Alec teases, and Dillon’s mouth twitches.
I look between the two of them, inwardly debating what I should do, before I sigh and pull out my phone. I pass it over to Dillon, making sure our fingers don’t touch. “Fine,” I say begrudgingly. “I might delete it as soon as I get home.”
There’s the faintest curve to his mouth, his eyes creasing at the corners. “That’s okay. If that’s what you need to do. But at least, this way, I know I tried, right?”
Dillon sets the phone down on the table when he’s done, using one finger to slide it back toward me. He gives me one last lingering look before he turns and walks away without another word. It’s not until the door to the cafe shuts behind him that I realize he left his coffee behind.
Alec’s watching me, his shoes knocking against mine when he stretches his legs out under the table. “That was awkward as fuck.”
“Yeah,” I murmur.
“You gonna make him work for it, Charlie?”
I pin a furious look on him. “That’s not what I’m doing.”
“Isn’t it? So what I just witnessed wasn’t you torturing him a little and getting your own back?” He holds his palms out. “Not that I judge. You do what you gotta do.”
I bite my lip, eyes sliding to the door Dillon disappeared through. “You think I should’ve gone easier on him?”
Alec shakes his head. “I don’t think anything. Like I said, you do you. But that man? He probably doesn’t need help with the torture.” His brows furrow. “Seems to be doing just fine torturing himself.”
Kayla poses in front of the mirror, cocking a hip and pursing her lips dramatically. Her glittery red dress stops just under her ass, and I know that if she lifts her arms or bends the wrong way, everyone will see what’s underneath.
It’s daring and risque, and something I would never be caught dead in. My cousin is slim enough to pull it off, but I wouldn’t wear that even if I were several sizes smaller.
There’s just not enough fabric.
She catches my expression in the mirror. “Is it too short?”
I shake my head, leaning my hands on the bed behind me. “No. Not unless you’re planning on wearing it to Sunday brunch. Then definitely yes.”
Kayla winks at me. “I’m definitely not doing any kind of brunch.” She wrinkles her nose. “Well, unless some guy invites me to stay over.”
“That dress will definitely get you breakfast,” I assure her, adding with a grin, “And dinner the next night too.”
She fluffs her shoulder-length brown hair before turning to face me. “Speaking of brunch…”
I let out a groan. “I can already tell I’m not gonna like whatever you’re about to say.”
She grimaces. “You wouldn’t be wrong. Apparently, your mom’s had enough of your shenanigans.” She lowers her voice in a mockery of my mother’s. “And your attendance will be required at family dinner next week.”
I eye her. “That’s got nothing to do with brunch.”
“They’re both meals.” She rolls her eyes. “You can’t keep avoiding her. Everyone knows you’re living with me, and I can’t keep playing buffer.” Kayla comes over and sits on the bed, nudging me playfully even as she tells me seriously, “I don’t want to keep playing buffer. I’m not Switzerland.”
I know she’s right, and I look away. I haven’t been fair to her, but my mother makes me feel weak—more than Bliss ever has. I found the courage to stand up to Bliss, but looking my mother in the eye—the person who is supposed to love me unconditionally—and fighting back?
Just the idea of it is enough to have me crumpling like wet paper.
“There’s something else,” Kayla says. I look at her, finding her brows drawn together. “They said Barrett isn’t invited.”
I snort. “I’d like to see them try to stop him.”
She gives me a small smile. “Attagirl. Why don’t you come out with me tonight? My friends won’t mind.”
I stifle a wince because her friends are not my idea of a good time. Relieved I have a legitimate reason to say no, I shake my head. “Barrett’s coming over to watch a movie.”
She blinks rapidly. “Here? Tonight? You never said.” Kayla’s hand flutters awkwardly up to her head and then back down. “I, uh…You know what? I should go.” She jumps up from the bed, pulling the hem of her dress down.
“Something happening between you and Barrett?” I ask curiously, as much as I don’t want to know.
“Nope,” she says, heading for her closet and fishing out a pair of strappy black heels. She slides them on and then grabs a jacket and clutch, checking herself out in the mirror one last time. “What do you think?”
“Perfect.”
Kayla looks at me, her smile slipping an inch. “I want you to know I have your back, Charlie.” She pauses, eyes dipping from mine. “With your mom, I mean. I don’t think the way Aunt Aggie talks to you is okay.”
My face feels tight as I shake her words off. “I know,” I say quietly, standing up and heading out of her room. “Don’t worry about me.”
“Okay,” Kayla says uncertainly as she follows me. After a moment, she brushes it off. “Don’t let Barrett touch my stuff, okay? He’s definitely got boy cooties.” And then she’s gone, leaving a cloud of strong perfume behind her.
I sit down on the couch with a sigh, pulling out my phone. It only takes me a second to pull up the empty message thread, Dillon’s name and new number sitting at the top.
It’s been a week since I ran into him, and I’ve pulled his contact up more often than I should. The time in the corner tells me I’ve got an hour until Barrett turns up, and with my mother’s compulsory invitation hanging over my head, I decide to dive into the distraction.
Charlie:
Hey.