28. Chapter Twenty-Eight
Chapter Twenty-Eight
As I stand in front of my mirror, deciding between small gold hoops or silver diamond studs, I can’t muster anything other than a total lack of enthusiasm for my date with Braxton tonight. The month has flown by, and with it, all my excitement for this date. My eyes flick to the necklace Alden gifted me when we were in New York, the one he got because he picked up on my anxious tic of rubbing my chest when I’m overwhelmed. I haven’t worn it since our fight, but my hand has a mind of its own as I replace the simple chain I was wearing with it.
My mind is stirring because it isn’t supposed to be like this; none of this is. I’m supposed to not be thinking of another man right before I leave, but I can’t help it. Should I really be going on this date? Maybe I’ll try to repair things with Alden if he lets me. I haven’t heard from him since that night in his suite, and to be fair, I understand why. He must hate me because, at the moment, I hate myself.
My reflection stares back at me in the mirror, and I force a smile to find that excitement that I’m missing. A knock on my bedroom door pulls my attention.
Deciding to take the high road, I say, “Come in.” And finally, I choose the gold hoops.
Harriet lingers at my door, staring at me. I notice that her luggage rests at her feet.
“You’re going.” I sigh, knowing her routine by now.
She steps into the room. “I know when I’m not wanted.”
“What did you expect? You blow into my life after years of no communication and act like everything between us is fine. That’s not how a relationship works, Harriet. You can’t get the good after so much bad.”
“You look beautiful,” Harriet brushes over my outburst.
My movements still, and I see a ghost of a smile touch her lips. She seems genuine, but I can’t tell. Through the mirror, I lock eyes with her, seeing something that makes me believe her. I turn around and focus on putting my other jewellery away.
“Thanks,” I mumble, and anxiously clear my throat.
She leans against the wall. “Hot date tonight? Is it with that delicious snack I met the other day?” She raises an eyebrow, and an uncomfortable feeling washes over me.
To avoid her eyes, I look away and shake my head.
“No.” I glance up to see a telling expression on her face. “What?”
“Nothing. I just—I just thought you two made a nice pair, that’s all. But don’t listen to me. I’m just some man-chasing floozy.”
“At least you know.”
She smiles. “Ouch.”
When I remember that I have to leave soon, my stomach sinks. “Sometimes, things don’t work out.”
Harriet snorts and moves forward. She stands behind me, and I watch her through the mirror.
“You’re talking to the queen of things not working out, baby.” She hesitantly places a hand on my shoulder. “I like your hair better down.”
I decided to deviate from my regular ponytail or bun and wear my hair down tonight. When I don’t flinch or pull back, she starts playing with the ends.
The familiar pang of longing reverberates in my chest. “Me too.”
“We might not know each other well, Monroe, but I do recognize when someone isn’t being true to themselves. It’s a feeling I know well.” She takes a step back, and her hand leaves me. “If you ever decide to listen to anything I say, let it be this. Don’t be afraid to put it all on the line. It might not work out, but at least you were fearless.”
There’s that word again. Fearless . Alden called me the same thing. Being fearless hasn’t been my strong suit lately. Actually, I’ve been the opposite. I’ve let my fears hold me back from something I really want, like I’ve done my whole life.
With that, she heads out of my room, stopping momentarily to pick up her bag.
“How am I supposed to do that?” I ask.
She shrugs. “I don’t have all the answers. Figure it out.”
Before she can leave, I say, “This doesn’t change anything.”
“I didn’t think that it did. But at least I tried this time.”
I open my mouth to say something else, but Harriet leaves. And my window closes. She has her faults, but sometimes, she surprises me. My phone pings with a new text, and I grab it from my bed. I freeze when I see that it’s from Alden.
ALDEN:
I was wrong. You should go on that date, Monroe.
I stare at my screen, thinking that I’m imagining things. Alden is reaching out to tell me to go out with Braxton. Emotion clogs my throat because I’ve just run out of time.
MONROE:
What made you change your mind?
It’s a simple question because, honestly, I don’t have the heart for anything other than the truth.
ALDEN:
Because it’s what you want, and I don’t want to stand in the way of your happiness anymore. If he’s the one who will make you happy, then I won’t prevent that. I’m just sorry that it took me this long to get the message.
Get the message? I fucked things up so badly, haven’t I? This is my moment to turn the tide; I can change the course of everything between us with one text. I can finally admit out loud that I feel something more for Alden.
MONROE:
Thank you for being honest with me.
But I never said I was smart. Instead of listening to anyone who told me to be brave, to shove those awful, doubting feelings down and try something new, I folded. I’m still clinging to that self-sabotaging voice inside my head, the one that tells me that I’m not good enough for him, for anyone. I have nothing to give; I have nothing except hurt and baggage to offer. And who could want that?
After I hit send, I turn my phone to Do Not Disturb and pack it away in my clutch. If I’m making dishonest decisions tonight, let that one be the first of many.
I’m beginning to have second thoughts about my date with Braxton. With everything going on lately, this cramped Italian restaurant feels like the last place I should be. I only agreed to dinner because I wanted to prove to myself that Alden was nothing more than a hookup and I could separate him from anyone else I might want to see. But now that I’m actually on the date and the blond man with hopeful eyes is staring back at me, making me feel guiltier than I already do, I realize I don’t want to be here.
Over the rim of my wine glass, I take a peek at Braxton. He seems normal enough, as normal as someone can be. He’s wearing a white button-down with black slacks, and he has his award-winning smile resting snugly on his face. By all accounts, he’s perfect. But something feels off.
My mind takes me back to The Gulf, to Alden, to that whole trip. And even though it was supposed to be because of a bet, it didn’t feel that way. It didn’t feel like two people who couldn’t stand each other sharing a meal. It felt like two people on a date. Like something I wanted to be real.
You’re always so happy when you eat. And sharing something with you as normal as this, it makes me feel like I contributed to your happiness, just a little.
“You’re not enjoying yourself, are you?” Braxton asks.
I sit up straighter and put on a believable smile as I shake my head. “That’s not…” The words die on my tongue.
My smile falters. I shouldn’t lie to him. I’m not enjoying myself, and if Braxton can tell, then it is glaringly obvious. Making up an excuse now when he knows it’s one would be poor form, and I don’t want to hurt him. He’s a nice guy. Another half hour or so won’t kill me, and then I don’t have to see him again. That’s not a crime.
“I’m enjoying myself. I’m just a little…” I try to find the right words. “…preoccupied.” That’ll work.
It isn’t a lie. But the hollowness in my gut lingers. Braxton’s face falls slightly, but it’s enough for me to know that he doesn’t believe me. A change in the air has my pulse rising.
“Because of Alden. Right?” His tone is different, cooler.
“No, it has nothing to do with him. I’ve just been distracted lately.”
“Well, either way”—Braxton reaches across the table to grab my hand—“I’m glad you were able to make some time for me.” Okay, a little touchy-feely for a first date, but whatever.
“Me too,” I say, trying to slip my hand out of his, but he tightens his grip.
“I want to believe you, Monroe. I really do.”
“What are you talking about?” I ask.
“I mean…” Braxton leans in closer. “That you’re not fooling anyone, least of all me.”
His teeth are bared, and I turn away from him.
“I have no idea what you’re getting at.”
“I think you do. I think you know exactly what I’m talking about. You and Alden.”
“Let go of my hand, now,” I say sternly, even though my pulse is racing.
Braxton releases my hand and puts his up in defence. “I didn’t mean to out you. I only want to warn you.”
I massage my hand, feeling the blood returning to it. “Warn me about what?”
“Him. Alden.” Braxton licks his lips, intently watching me. “He’s not all he’s cracked up to be.”
“He said the same thing about you.”
Braxton frowns, holding my eyes. “That seems like something he would do. He never takes responsibility for his actions. Good to know that hasn’t changed.”
“Responsibility for his actions?”
Braxton takes a sip from his wine. “Oh, I guess that subject hasn’t come up yet.” I raise a brow, and he continues. “Evelyn? He really hasn’t told you about her yet?”
I shake my head, not understanding what’s happening.
“Not a very healthy way to start a relationship, but it’s not my place. I’m sorry for bringing it up.”
“Yeah, I’m sure you are.” I get my nerve back.
A sudden shift in the room makes my head turn, and I feel him before I see him. My body relaxes immediately, and a wave of calm washes over me. As if I’m being pulled under by a powerful current, his scent invades me. Alden is here. Braxton is aware of him, too, and his attention moves to Alden. I turn my head and take him in, all six foot one of him, greeting me with his flawlessly styled hair and his perfectly pressed black suit. One undeniable thought comes to mind.
He’s crashing my date, and I couldn’t be happier.
“What are you doing here?” I ask, gobsmacked.
Alden and Braxton are staring each other down, neither one bothering to look at me. It’s like I’m not even here. Men and their egos.
“Alden,” I try again, louder. He looks at me. “Why are you here? I thought you said I should go on this date.”
His eyes shift back to Braxton. “I changed my mind.”
“Do you know how rude this is, Van Doren? Showing up when you’re clearly not invited.” Braxton adjusts his tie nervously.
“Last time I checked, Hayes, it was a free country. I can show up anywhere I damn well please.”
A gasp escapes me, and Alden’s eyes flit to me for half a second. I’ve never heard him speak with that much venom. I shouldn’t want to hear more of it, but I do. Down girl.
Braxton scoffs. “So, you just happen to show up at the one place you knew we would be having our date?”
Alden’s jaw flexes periodically. He leans down to whisper in Braxton’s ear. “Doesn’t look like much of a date to me.” But I’m close enough that I hear every word. “Hate to break it to you, Hayes, but your date looks as bored as can be. And it probably has something to do with your personality.”
A snort slips, and Braxton casts me a dismissive look. He gets up from the small table, standing to his full height. He’s tall, but he isn’t as tall as Alden. Braxton gets in Alden’s face.
“Tread carefully, Alden. Or do I need to remind you that we’ve been here before?” He smiles cruelly.
Alden’s eyes dart to me. “No, you don’t.” His tone is dark, edging on furious.
“Good.” He pats Alden’s arm. “Then you’ll leave us. We haven’t even had dessert yet.”
The idea of spending any more time with Braxton makes my stomach twist. I look between them before Alden’s expression morphs into one I’ve never seen from him before. Jealousy . He’s jealous. I can’t decide who will make the first move. If Alden will leave or if Braxton will make him leave. But I’m on the edge of my seat.
Alden’s eyes darken as he stares Braxton down. “That’s not going to happen.” He grabs my arm and gets me to my feet. Surprised, I don’t even object. I can only let out a tiny yelp. “Let’s go,” he says to me.
“Don’t be stupid, Alden,” Braxton warns.
Alden drops my arm and grasps Braxton by his collar instead. He lifts him off the ground with ease, and Braxton’s face drains of all its colour. Alden doesn’t strike me as the type to get physical with anyone, and I’m stunned by what I’m seeing.
I think he’ll lay Braxton out or, at the very least, punch him. But he lets him go, dropping him to the ground. Braxton scrambles to compose himself as he brims with anger.
“You’re not worth the effort it would take to break a sweat,” Alden says calmly. “You might be content to keep reliving the past, but I’m done with it. I’m tired of letting it control me. After tonight, I’m leaving you and it behind.”
My heart pounds steadily as Alden takes my hand, whisking me away from Braxton and out of the restaurant.
“Just remember that you’re the one who started this, Van Doren!” Braxton calls after us.
I look back to see Braxton’s indestructible expression disintegrate in front of my eyes. He looks like a man broken, a man who doesn’t know what comes next.
Time as I know it stands still. What just happened? Alden’s hand is laced with mine when I look down. He squeezes lightly as we get outside. The cool air brushes against my skin, cooling me marginally as he leads me to his parked town car. I can’t tell whether he’s angry or resigned or nothing at all. Alden drops my hand to hold the car door open for me, not uttering a word as I get inside.
When we’re both in, he raps on the partition once, and we start moving a second later. He leans back against the seat, avoiding my eyes.
A tense silence hangs in the air, and I can’t stand it a second longer.
“What was that?” I ask, a hundred disorienting thoughts racing through my mind. I take a breath, struggling to focus.
Alden looks at me. “What part confuses you?”
“The whole thing.” My hands run up and down my exposed thighs, and I feel myself surrender to my emotions. Alden can’t keep his eyes off me. “Why did you come? I didn’t think you had anything left to say.”
His teeth sink into his lower lip like he’s contemplating his next words. “I tried keeping myself away, Monroe. I wanted to give you the space you needed, but I couldn’t do it. I couldn’t sit by while you were with him. It didn’t feel right.”
This is what every woman wants to hear, and yet, uncertainty still tugs at me, crippling me. There are still so many unanswered questions. So many what-ifs.
“And what does feel right?”
He’s said it enough times, but I need to hear it one more time. I need to know that when I ask, his answer won’t change. I need that stability. After so many years of unreliability, of feeling like I was crazy for wanting to be a priority to those who claimed to be there for me, I need to hear it.
There’s an affectionate glow in Alden’s eyes that warms me, pulling me in deeper. His lips twitch before he gives in.
“You and me.” He’s so sure of his answer—so sure of us.
“Alden—”
He takes my right hand and places it on his chest, over his heart.
“Is it beating?”
I nod hesitantly. Alden’s heartbeat strums underneath my fingers. It’s distinct, strong, dependable , just like him.
“That constant, steady rhythm feels right to me. You feel right to me, Monroe. It doesn’t feel painful just existing anymore; it doesn’t feel like I need to keep punishing myself, to deny being happy. I’ve found my cure, and you’re it.”
I can’t help but gasp. A tiny spark of belief ignites inside me, and I think that maybe we can give this a real shot. But something Braxton said won’t leave me, and it tugs at me until I address it.
My hand slowly retreats from his chest, coming to rest on the seat. “Who’s Evelyn?”
That spark I was so ready to trust dims when Alden’s face shifts. And it gives him away.
He cups my cheek. “Braxton mentioned her?”
I nod again, words failing me at the moment.
“I wasn’t lying when I told Braxton that I was done living in the past, that I was ready to move on.” Alden’s breathing stutters, and I wait as he collects himself. “I don’t want to hold back, and I don’t think we can move forward until I tell you the whole truth.”
Uneasiness courses through my veins, demanding attention, but for once, I ignore it. For once, I let myself fall.
To reassure him, I reach out and squeeze his hand. I’ve had an inkling that something was eating away at him, that he was holding something back from me. I just didn’t know what it was.
Alden has a faraway look in his eyes, like it’s a topic he’s only broached with a handful of people.
“You can tell me anything.”