Page 35 of Shadowing Charlotte
Fuck this.I didn't grovel and beg for a second chance to deal with this kind of shit. I pulled away from the curb and took off, not bothering to look back.
Chapter twenty-nine
Charlotte
Six Weeks Later...
Good morning beautiful.
Won't you talk to me?
I've already said I'm sorry a thousand times.
I sighed and rolled out of bed. It was already after ten on Sunday. I should have been up and dressed and going for a run. Instead, I dragged my feet all the way to the kitchen and put on a pot of coffee.
I hadn't gone out once since Lex and I had broken up. Well, we'd never officially said it was over, but he hadn't spoken to me since that night, and I hadn't bothered to reach out to him. We weren't good for one another, at least, that's what I told myself.
I paid for the damage, didn't I?
Charlotte
Adam had begun texting me again. I'd made the mistake of responding the first time, and we'd ended up in another argument.
Fine. Fuck you.
Spoiled fucking cunt.
I rolled my eyes and deleted the conversation. Despite wanting to, I hadn't worked up the nerve to actually block Adam, terrified that it would set him off again.
Remaining in my pajamas, I poured myself a cup of coffee, dug my glasses out of my purse, and sat down on the couch with a pile of book pitches. All I'd done for weeks was work endlessly.
The Sunday before, I'd taken a drive down to see my father. We'd had lunch and talked, mostly about Adam's behavior and how my job was going. It had been a pleasant afternoon, and we had watched movies on the couch until I fell asleep against his shoulder. The next morning, he woke me up at a quarter to six, making sure I would get to work on time.
I read through four book proposals before my coffee had gone cold. As I dumped it into the sink and prepared a new cup, my mind wandered. I missed Alexander. I missed seeing his car parked on my street; missed the warm, musky smell of him in my bed. Flicking open Facebook, I typed in his name and pulled open his profile. He was tagged in a photo with Shawn and Jessica the night before, the three of them sitting around a wooden table littered with empty beer bottles.
It was my utter lack of self-control that forced my thumb to like the picture before closing the app. At least when he saw the notification, he'd think about me, even if it was only for a minute.
For three days following our "date", I'd warred with myself over my behavior while trying to ignore the pleasant ache his handprints had left behind. Lex was right; I had acted like a child. But he'd also pissed me off. I didn't like talking about my feelings, especially when I knew they weren't logical.
Still, no matter how I tried to rationalize it, guilt ate at me. I had behaved exactly as he'd always expected—like a spoiled little rich girl. That wasn't who I wanted to be.
My father had done the same sort of thing after my mother died. He'd constantly forced me to "open up" against my will. When I told Alexander nothing was wrong, I had hoped he would drop the subject and let me cool off. Instead, he prodded me to speak, until I felt like the same frustrated girl I'd been when I lost my mother.
After the first week, I'd stopped dwelling on things I couldn't change. After the third week, I'd stopped hoping to see the Camaro lurking about. I had even cut back on vaping, something my lungs were thankful for, but my hands weren't. I hated feeling like I had nothing to keep me busy.
Tossing my glasses on the table, I let out a restless huff and stared at the ceiling. The hole inside me kept growing, no matter how I tried to ignore it. I wandered into the kitchen, staring out the window at the backyard. On impulse, I began to strip, leaving a trail of clothing across the floor. I stepped, naked, out into the backyard and padded over to the pool. Tossing my phone and a towel onto one of the chairs, I dove into the deep end.
Logically, I knew Lex wasn't watching me, but pretending that he was, as I paddled through the water, was bizarrely comforting. I reclined back on the lounge chair, stretching out and letting the sun warm my skin.
Fuck it.
A mischievous smile stretched across my face as I laid the chair flat and reached for my phone. I draped the towel over the curve of my ass and sprawled forward, angling the lens and snapping a photo. My smile didn't fade as I examined the picture. I looked far happier than I felt, smirking into the camera. I had been sure to lay on my chest, so my breasts weren't visible, but the angle showed enough of me for anyone to see I was naked.
Before I could second guess myself, I posted the photo, captioning it: Happy SUNday ??.
Then I set my phone on the ground beside me and closed my eyes.
Chapter thirty
