Page 78 of American Beauty

Because if I don’t, I’ll stay stuck in this purgatory forever—halfway between healing and heartbreak.

And that’s no way to live.

Chapter 23

Alex Sebring

The wheelsof the private jet touch down with a soft jolt, and the unfamiliar Charleston skyline stretches beyond the window.

My phone is heavier than usual as I dial Magnolia’s number. One ring, and straight to voicemail.

Hey. I’m in town. I need to see you. It’s important.

The text sends, but there’s no read receipt. No dots appearing to tell me she’s typing. Only silence.

I try again.

Please. Just five minutes of your time. That’s all I’m asking for.

Still nothing.

The texts continue to sit there, unread, glaring back at me. And now there’s no doubt—she’s blocked me. Not that I didn’t suspect it months ago.

One thing about Magnolia––she never does anything halfway. When she decided she wanted me gone, she made damn sure there was no coming back.

I shove my phone into my pocket. “Fuck! I didn’t come all this way just to hit another roadblock.”

With no other option, I grab my bag and head for the waiting taxi. Sliding into the back seat, I give the driver the address to Soul Sync, the one place I can find her.

As we weave through the streets of Charleston, I watch the city unfold around me—colorful buildings with intricate ironwork balconies, cobblestone streets lined with trees swaying in the warm breeze. It’s picturesque, the kind of place Magnolia would thrive in, full of charm and old-world elegance.

But right now, it’s a beautiful maze keeping me from what I came here for.

I drag in a slow breath, tapping my fingers against my knee as the taxi pulls up to Soul Sync’s office. I step out, staring up at the building, my pulse hammering in my ears. Months have passed, but standing here now, it feels like no time at all—like I’m right back where I was when she walked away.

My chest tightens at the thought of seeing her again, the weight of everything left unsaid pressing down on me. Part of me wonders if she’ll let me get a word in. Or will she turn and walk away the second she lays eyes on me.

Maybe she should. I’m fucked up in the head, even more so since I lost her.

But another part of me—one that’s louder, more desperate—clings to the hope that I might get something out of this.

A moment.

A conversation.

A chance to make sense of what happened.

I roll my shoulders, forcing down the nerves clawing at my throat. I can’t turn back now. Whatever happens, I’ll face it.

I step inside Soul Sync, the cool blast of air-conditioning hitting me like a welcome reprieve from the thick Charlestonheat. The lobby is sleek and modern, similar to the one in Sydney. For a moment, it feels like I’ve stepped back in time.

Before I can take another step, a bright, cheerful voice calls out from behind the reception desk.

“Well, look who it is—Julius Caesar.”

I turn toward the voice, and there she is—the same client specialist rep from Sydney. “What a surprise seeing you here.”

My pulse kicks up, but I force a polite nod. “Yeah. Thought I’d drop in.”

---