Page 133 of Unexpected Forever
Alone.
The view of the Atlantic would be gorgeous if I didn’t have to see the deck furniture. All it does is remind me of Charley.
Hell, this whole fucking house reminds me of Charley now.
Why did I ever think it was a good idea to come back here and bring her with me? I can’t bear to look at the kitchen counter. I haven’t stepped foot on the back deck. My fucking closet—where she put the jersey on I had made for her, her face lit up like the sun—is off limits.
She’s ruined my peaceful haven for me.
I’d hate her for it if I didn’t love her so much.
It’s been two weeks since she ended things, and all I think about is her. Everything about her.
I sit up gingerly, making sure my head doesn’t roll off my shoulders—though it might be an improvement—and let my stomach settle.
This is why I don’t drink often and never to excess. Who the hell wants to feel like this?
I lean my forearms on my knees and hold my head in my hands. Why can’t the ache in my chest settle as easily as my stomach?
My phone rings, and it’s like someone stuck an ice pick through my brain. Fuck me, it hurts.
Everything hurts.
I lift my head, and among empty bottles of liquor, I find my phone lit up with Megan’s name. I debate sending her to voicemail but at the last second decide against it.
“Hello?” My voice sounds like I swallowed rocks.
“Nate?”
“Megan?”
“You sound like shit. Open the gate.”
“What gate?”
“Yourgate, dummy.”
I blink. How much did I fucking drink? “You’re here?”
She sighs. “Yes, good God. Just open the damn gate, Nate.”
She hangs up and I fumble my way around but manage to get the gate opened.
My feet slap against the cool hardwood, and my head pounds with each step as I make my way to the front door.
Surprise rocks me back on my heels when I open the door to find Megan, Lucas, and Darcy getting out of a car. “What are you guys doing here? Is Charley okay?” I ask, my chest tightening.
Megan marches up to me and pokes me in the chest. “We are saving you from doing something monumentally stupid.”
Leaning forward, she sniffs my T-shirt, her nose wrinkling. “You stink.”
She sweeps past me like she owns the place, and I turn to my other unexpected guests.
“Charley’s fine.” Darcy gives me the side-eye. “Physically.”
She follows Megan in.
“What the hell does that mean?”
