Chapter Twenty-Seven
MATT
The disarray of the bed sheets hits me first as I step into my bedroom to get changed.
Then memories of Alex assault my senses.
Her smell, her taste, her touch. I tense up as I remember last night—moving against her, moving inside her.
My cock twitches thinking about it, and I swallow hard, turning away from my bed and walking to my closet.
I need to focus my energy on something else for a while.
At least until I can spend enough time trying to contact Alex again.
Once changed, I rush out of my room and down to my home gym to work off some much built-up tension.
I get to work, pushing hard to my limit quickly.
I don’t even bother to warm up before moving straight into a fast cardio round.
My chest is glistening with droplets of sweat, and my heart is racing as I push myself, trying to propel through the anguish.
All I want is to talk to her, but having to wait is a form of torture.
I pick up a twenty-pound weight, then sit on the floor and do Russian twists.
Puffs of air force out of my mouth with the added pressure, and I groan while pushing harder and harder until I break and fall backward.
The weight falls on my chest, and I make an “oomph” noise as it falls.
I slide the weight off me and onto the floor, then I lie here panting, trying to catch my breath.
My stomach aches, and I close my eyes just trying to breathe.
Not from overworking myself, but from the sheer fact that I’m in limbo and can’t do jack fucking shit about it.
I glance at the clock—past six thirty. Alex leaves the gallery at six, so she should be home by now. My legs feel unsteady as I stand and take a long sip from my water bottle. Grabbing a towel, I wipe my brow and head to the kitchen, determined to call her again.
I toss protein powder into a bottle, add water, and grab my phone, putting it on speaker as I shake the mixture. The ringing starts, and my chest tightens. With each unanswered ring, my grip on the bottle tightens, shaking it harder until the call goes to voicemail.
I sigh and take a sip of my shake as I redial her number.
It rings and rings and rings.
Nothing.
My sneaker taps rapidly on the floor as I wait impatiently for Alex to answer.
But nothing.
I figure if she doesn’t answer my calls, then maybe if I send her a message, at least then she will read it and maybe see that I want to talk to her and apologize.
Wanting, no, needing to word this right, I walk over to the sofa and take a seat. I can’t chance repeating stupid shit.
Me: Alex, I’m so, so sorry. Please pick up the phone so I can talk to you, and we can hash this out. I know I fucked up. You are worth so much to me. I can’t imagine my life without you, Alex. Please don’t let this be it for us!
I hit send and take a deep breath, watching as the signal shows sent, then soon after delivered. I sit and wait, and wait, and wait, but it doesn’t mark as seen. I’m not sure if it’s because she isn’t by her cell at the moment or if she is completely ignoring my messages now, too.
“Fuck, Alex, c’mon, just look at it,” I murmur and keep watching my sent message, but nothing is happening. I’m becoming more and more agitated as time passes, and I decide to try calling her again. It rings twice, and she hangs up on me.
My stomach plummets, and my heart races.
So she is there, just ignoring me.
Wow! Okay! So I have really fucked up.
Throwing myself back into the sofa, I sink into the cushions. “Good job, Matt,” I murmur and decide to let it go for tonight. She’s already super angry at me, and doing anything else tonight will only antagonize her further.
I have to let her cool off.
Tomorrow, I will try harder.
Tomorrow, I will get Alex back on side.
***
Last night, I was on edge. Every time my cell went off, I hoped and prayed it was Alex. But nothing came through. I had messages from Nate, Ryan, and, surprisingly, Charlotte from Lovepessimist, but nothing from the one person I really wanted to talk to.
Alex has completely shut me out, and I hate it.
Today is a new day, and I’m going to keep trying to get in contact.
And if she still doesn’t answer my calls or messages, I have an idea for tonight, since it’s Tuesday and we would normally spend the evening together.
I don’t want to push her, but I also want her to know I’m not going to bow out without letting her know I am willing to show her I care.
Rolling over in bed, a bed that still smells of Alex, I grab my cell from my bedside table and look to see my message from yesterday is still listed unseen.
Huffing, I press her name to call her. It rings out and goes unanswered yet again.
Pursing my lips in a scowl, I huff and try once more.
The same happens, and I wonder if she’ll keep this up all day.
Getting up, I walk over to my ensuite and place my cell on the counter, making sure the volume is up loud so I will hear it over the shower. When I step out, I’m not all that surprised that she didn’t call or message me. I’m even more determined to make today count.
Throughout the day, I call her in lots of twos, every few hours. And every time, the calls go unanswered. The message from yesterday is still unseen, and I’m starting to think I’m going to have to enact my plan for tonight because, obviously, persistent calling isn’t working.
I send Scott instructions—in fine detail—to ensure he gets nothing wrong. Technically, he’s security, and this is not his job, but he’s also my friend.
A short time later, he responds.
Scott: Sure. What time do you want me to deliver this?
I look up at the clock—it’s just turned six. She should be leaving soon, so I type back my reply.
Me: In about half an hour. Then, hopefully, once you deliver it, she will call me or at least message me, right?
Scott: I’ll say something like he’d love to hear from you.
Pursing my lips, I wonder if that’s a good idea or not, but then figure, why the hell not?
Me: Yeah, if you think it will work. Suss her out, see how she’s reacting to the gift. But yeah, I’d like a full report.
Scott: Obviously. Okay gotta go, got some shopping to do…
Me: Thanks, bro.
Now, all that’s left is to sit here and fucking wait.
***
It’s been an hour, and I’m still nervously sitting by my cell, waiting aimlessly for something, anything from either Scott or Alex.
A knock on the door jolts me, snapping me out of my musing. Furrowing my brows in confusion, I stand and walk to the door, wondering who the hell this could be.
Then it dawns on me. It might be Alex. Maybe she’s come over after Scott gave her my gifts, and she is so happy that she’s here to make up.
I smile widely while picking up my pace to get to the door. I take a calming breath before straightening and opening the door to see… not Alex but Scott.
I frown and sigh exasperatedly while he swallows hard. The look on his face is not one of triumph, and I inwardly die a little. I already know it didn’t go well, but I don’t want to believe it.
“Did you buy her the flowers? The right ones?” I ask.
He nods, pulls out his phone, and shows me a picture. “Daisies and daffodils… a massive bunch. I asked the florist to custom-design it. The thing was huge.”
I glance at the photograph, and he’s right—it’s stunning. Bigger and far more extravagant than the modest bouquet I gave her the first time, yet somehow, it still feels like us. The same flowers I’d chosen back then for our first outing together.
“And the Mexican, did you get all the tacos and burritos? And the potatoes? Did you get the fiesta potatoes?”
He chuckles. “I got it all, Matt, and the ice cream and the chocolate.”
I nod and take a deep breath while looking at his solemn eyes. “And, did you tell her how sorry I am, and that I need to talk to her if she would just let me?”
He nods while moving from foot to foot awkwardly, like he’s uncomfortable, and my eyes bore into him as my brows scrunch together. “Scott?”
He looks at his cell and winces, bringing up a recording. “Alex did a voice recording for you. Said she wanted you to hear it for yourself, but she didn’t want to talk to you directly. I tried to tell her to call you, but she insisted on letting me record her talking to you instead.”
My stomach somersaults, but I nod and clench my jaw before waving my hand in a signal for him to play my destiny.
Instantly, the sound of Alex clearing her throat filters through the air.
My body relaxes slightly at finally hearing her, and I lean against the doorframe, getting ready to listen to what she has to say.
“Is it recording?” she asks.
“Yes, go ahead,” Scott replies.
“Okay, Matt, as you know, I’ve been avoiding your calls.
I am doing this on purpose. I don’t want to talk to you.
I’m also not reading your messages, so please don’t send any more.
I won’t read them. Do not bother calling or messaging anymore.
Our friendship is over… for good. You need to move on and let me go.
This is what I want, and it’s the only thing that will make me happy.
So please, Matt, to make me h-happy…” Her voice breaks slightly like she’s trying to fight back the tears.
“Let me go.” The recording ends, and I screw up my face.
I look up to Scott, who’s frowning. He puts his cell away and looks at me with sympathy.
“I don’t get it. Why would she do this?”
“I have no idea, man. Alex seemed… infuriated. She threw the flowers in the trash. The food, though, she took. Girl’s gotta eat, I suppose.”
“Did she seem like she meant it?” I ask, and he shrugs.
“Shit, man, I’m not the one to ask about women and their psychology.
I’m the worst at reading women… but she seemed all over the place.
When I gave her the flowers, she had a slight smile, then it was like something clicked in her mind, and she threw them in the trash.
I don’t know, Matt, she seemed… broken. But I honestly think she believes if she can distance herself from you, then she’ll be happy in some twisted way. ”
My stomach sinks and I clench my eyes shut, hating this feeling—the feeling of losing her. Alex means so much to me, and I pushed her away because I couldn’t give her what she wants. I was all about stupid fucking rules and not thinking about what was right in front of me.
“She will be happy without me…” I let the words float through the air, hating that I even spoke them. But if that’s how she truly feels, then I guess I have to. It’s all about her happiness, right?
Goddammit, I have to let her go.
Because the only thing I want for Alex is for her to be happy.
And if my chasing after her is going to make her miserable, then I can’t put her through that.
I have to let her go.
“Fuck!” I cuss, slamming my fist against the door.
Scott winces and puts his hand on my shoulder in a comforting manner. “If it’s any consolation, she’s definitely not happy.”
“Thanks for trying. Thanks for going to all that trouble and trying to have her call me.”
He winces again. “I’m sorry it didn’t work. I tried, I really did. She wouldn’t budge. Alex is a fucking feisty little thing.”
I let out a half-laugh. “Yeah, I know.”
“You gonna be okay?”
“No… not even a little bit, but what can I do? I have no choice, do I? Gotta pull up my panties and get on with life now, I suppose.”
My phone dings, and my chest squeezes in the hope that it’s Alex and she’s changed her mind. I grab it and look down at a message from Charlotte. I sigh and put my cell back in my pocket.
“Matt, I believe everything happens for a reason. I’m not sure why Alex has turned you down, but getting a message from Charlotte right now… I’d take that as a sign.” Scott slaps my shoulder and turns, walking away.
I raise my brow and tilt my head. I guess the saying ‘when one door closes, another opens’ is true.
But I’m not sure, given my history with internet dating, whether I should pursue anything with Charlotte.
Sure, I’ve been talking to her, but I’ve also had this thing with Alex blow up in my face.
I need to calm the fuck down and take each day as it comes for a little while.
Honestly, thinking about throwing Charlotte into the mix so soon after Alex is more than daunting.
All I can think about is Alex.
But she doesn’t want me.
She’s made that painfully clear.
So maybe I need to do what she’s apparently doing and move the hell on.
Fuck my life!