Page 22 of If My Wishes Came True
My boyfriend of four years and his frat brothers are serenading me.
I run downstairs, and Hunter gives me the biggest bouquet of red roses I’ve ever seen. “A rose for every month I’ve known and loved you,” he tells me, his ocean-blue eyes sparkling.
And then he gets down on his knee.
“Jenna? Are you okay?” Charlie stands, and I look at the earring in my hand.
I shake my head. “I’m sorry. I um—I just realized I have to go. I’m meeting with a client a few blocks west of here, and if I don’t leave now, I’ll be late.”
It’s a total lie of course.
But seeing Charlie on one knee, with a diamond in his hand, reminded me why I vowed never to love again.
It’s not only to protect my heart. It’s to protect his.
I had a wonderful man like Charlie once. And I’ll never forgive myself for letting him down. Hunter Reed deserved so much better than me.
And so does Charlie Sutton.
“Oh,” he says, nodding. “Yeah, of course. I don’t want you to be late for your meeting.”
He’s so sweet, so polite, I almost can’t tell he’s disappointed. Almost.
“I had so much fun with you, I lost track of time,” I say, because seeing him sad breaks my already-broken heart. And also because it’s true.
“Me, too,” he says with a nod.
“Thanks for the coffee and croissant.” I give him a quick hug, because if I let him hold me longer, I’ll change my mind.
And then I run away.
Just like I always do.
The next morning, I wake up early for arealclient meeting. Not the fake one I made up to keep myself from kissing Charlie.
After I left him by the lake, I took a long walk and ended up in the River North Gallery District, which has the second-largest concentration of art galleries in the country, after Manhattan. As a designer, I bring my clients to these galleries all the time to help them choose pieces. But until yesterday, I’d never been on my own, just to browse. I thought it would feed my soul—but instead it left me feeling hungrier. Hungry to quit my design job. Hungry to make my own art and see it hanging on these walls. And let’s face it…
Hungry for Charlie.
But I made my decision, and I’m sure he’ll be much better off without me in his life. So instead of feeding my desire for Charlie Sutton, I stopped by his family’s grocery store and tried to satisfy my hunger with a hundred dollars’ worth of sweet and salty snacks. Not surprisingly, it only made me feel worse. Iwoke up this morning with a pounding head and heartburn on top of my heartache.
Which is why, as I stand outside the front door of the Gold Coast home my client inherited from her wealthy grandparents after they moved to Florida, I have to take several deep breaths and practice smiling before I’m ready to ring the doorbell. As soon as I do, Katie appears.
“Jenna, ohmygod, hi!” she squeals, hugging me and hopping up and down.
I’ll give it my best shot, but I doubt I’ll come close to matching her energy this morning. She’s bouncy and bubbly, like I try to be most days. But, lately, it’s getting harder for me to pretend.
Katie’s twenty-two, recently graduated from college with a degree in filmmaking, and lives in one of the country’s most affluent neighborhoods—in a converted building big enough to house two large families. Her style couldn’t differ more from her grandmother’s, who decorated mostly with florals and lace, so Katie hired me to help modernize her new home. We’ve been working together since I moved to Chicago two months ago, and today I’ll be putting the finishing touches on the place with a shipment of art pieces that arrived over the weekend.
“Come on in,” Katie says, grabbing my hand and pulling me into the first of two living rooms on the main floor. “Doesn’t the house look amazing? I know we still have artwork to hang, but I’m already so happy with how everything came together.”
I have to admit, the place looks stunning. I undoubtedly fulfilled Katie’s wishes, with brighter colors, modern furniture that’s stylish yet functional, and a remodeled kitchen withan extra-long island that will be perfect for entertaining. She wanted a home she could enjoy now, but also grow into—and she got it.
“So it turns out my family won’t be able to visit me until Thanksgiving,” she says with a frown. “But I was thinking of posting a video on my YouTube channel so they can see what a phenomenal job you did. I hate to ask…but do you think I could film you explaining your design process? I mean, no one watches my videos besides my family, so it doesn’t have to be perfect or anything.”
There’s a look in Katie’s eyes that I know all too well.
She’s lonely.
