Page 56 of Mr. Charming

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Tweetie being traded while still recuperating from his knee injury and him having to sit on the bench for a new team isn’t helping us remain as connected as we usually are since he moved to Nashville. The situation is stirring up a bunch of shit for me, and I worry we’re about to ruin everything. There’re so many questions, so many what-ifs hanging in the air around us. But I feel all my abandonment issues nipping at my heels, sending me running faster and faster toward our doom. Before you judge, future me, let me remind you exactly what’s happening.

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I decided to surprise Tweetie in Nashville. When I told him I couldn’t uproot my life and my goals to follow him to Nashville, he said he understood, but I know he didn’t. Maybe he did a little, but not enough. It was so hard to say no—so hard—but I felt like I owed it to the little girl who said she’d never hang her life on a man, that she’d always have her own money, her own dreams, her own sense of self.

I went to the condo he rented in downtown Nashville and sweet-talked the doorman into letting me up and into his place. Thankfully, I was on the approved visitor list, but the doorman went above and beyond by unlocking the apartment for me after I showed him a ton of photos of the two of us through the years.

I scattered flowers along the floor, leading to the bedroom. Then I turned off the lights and used the battery-operated tea lights to light the path. I opened a bottle of champagne, pulled out two glasses, and changed into the new red lingerie I’d bought for him.

Tossing more rose petals on his bed, I waited until he should’ve been on his way home, then I sank down in the middle of the bed, posing in my best sex kitten position, and waited for him.

I was going to make this work with him. We were so good for so long. Right after he left, our video chats were awesome. Little texts would be sent to each other with I miss yous and I love yous. But in recent weeks, things had changed. Video chats weren’t happening, being replaced with good morning and good night texts. I hadn’t gotten a vulgar dick pic from him in a month. That should’ve been my first sign.

After talking to Saige, I decided we needed this weekend together. He was off and it would just be us, reconnecting and finding our way back to one another. Finding our way back to being the best couple I’d ever known.

I waited for a half hour after he should’ve been home, and the condo door never opened. I grabbed my phone from my nightstand, anything to keep my mind from wandering to a worst-case scenario, and scrolled through my emails from work. After an hour had passed, I shot him a text.

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Call me when you’re on your way home.

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The three dots never popped up.

My heart sank. I kept repeating to myself nothing was going on, he was just delayed, maybe stopped at the grocery store or to grab something to eat. But I could feel the panic and the anxiety setting in.

I probably should’ve told him I was coming. I should’ve given him the heads-up to be here, then surprised him with the candles and the roses and the lingerie.

My first mistake was going to the blogs after I’d checked my work emails. I used to stay off them. Never wanted to be sucked into rumors and gossip that most often weren’t true. But I had to know if Tweetie was making me a fool. Was I lying in his bed while he was out with someone else? Although I hated myself the more my thumbs scrolled, it didn’t stop me.

Then I found something. A picture of him with a blonde at some club. Comments about how funny and down-to-earth he is. Innocent enough, but my eyes only zeroed in on the girl’s hand lying flat on his stomach. I read through every comment, and from what people were saying, it sounded like Tweetie was at the clubs an awful lot. A lot more than he had told me. And it was women who were commenting. Suddenly panic and fear had me in their grip, and each comment I read felt like a bullet through my flesh.

He’s so nice.

He’s so friendly.

He made me laugh so hard I almost peed myself.

He bought me and my friends a round of drinks.

Thank goodness Florida gave him up.

He was born to be a Nashville boy.

Thank you, Florida.

Welcome, Tweetie.

My new favorite player, Tweetie Sorenson.

I closed out of the app before I screamed so loudly someone thought I was being murdered. Tossing my phone on the rose-petal-covered bed, I threw on one of his sweatshirts and went into the family room, knowing what I was going to do.

I hated myself the entire time I scoured his apartment, almost wanting to find something just to prove my demons right. He was out with another girl right now. He’d found someone here in Nashville to replace me and was just afraid to tell me.

At some point, I lost control of myself. That little voice that said I was crazy to think he was cheating on me vanished, leaving only the voice that was certain he was done with me as I searched his things like a trained FBI agent.

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