Page 46 of Perfect Alpha

Walking up crowded city streets emphasizes that there just isn’t anyspacehere. I’m suffocating in the shadows of the monstrous buildings.

All the concrete has everyone so disconnected from nature and anything that matters, but I’m sure New Yorkers would say the same thing about the small-town life I love.

The grid of Manhattan is confusing as hell, and I can’t understand the streets versus avenues for the life of me. I can take the Montana backwoods in stride, but this jungle makes no damn sense.

It takes me way longer than I thought it would to get my bearings, including having to ask three different people where I am. Only one responded, but she looked rather annoyed at the intrusion into her life.

Unlocked doors and hour-long conversations with neighbors just stopping by to say hello are norms for me, and I go out of my way to help friends and strangers alike.

This city is another planet, and I’m surrounded by aliens.

I’m about to give up on ever finding Victory’s elusive apartment. I should just get in a cab with someone who knows where they’re going.

But then I spot her.

She’s like a glorious mirage standing in front of a brownstone building that isn’t as tall or fancy as I was expecting. Apparently, I’ve found her place.

The problem is that she’s in some other guy’s arms. Obviously, he’s going to be crashing at her place tonight, and they couldn’t even make it up the stairs to get their private party started.

She’s getting settled into her life here and building a future with someone who is most definitely not me. I always said that I wanted her to move on. It’s only now that I’m realizing just how little I meant it.

Victory isn’t like me – sex and love aren’t two separate things in her world. I waited too long, and she found a guy who means something to her. Anger clenches my fists and shame makes my face hot, but I’m frozen in place when all I want to do is retreat.

It’s like a terrible car accident I can’t look away from. Even though it’s horrific and hurts my heart, I’m a glutton for punishment and keep watching.

Now this image is forever burned into my mind. At least, I can conjure it up the next time I find myself home alone, dreaming about building a life with a woman that I’ve lost forever.

I want to approach the happy couple and beat the shit out of the guy for touching my girl. And then I want to throw Victory over my shoulder and tell her how much I fucking love her and need her in my life.

But instead, I head back the way I came.

Life is a series of twists and turns, and sometimes the way you came down is blocked so you can’t go back. This is one of those times. I’m an idiot for thinking Victory and I could pick up where we left off like nothing happened, or that our relationship would ever be the same.

There are small and big decisions we make every single day that irrevocably change the course of our lives. If the person who got hit by a tractor-trailer stopped to make a coffee first, maybe they never would have gotten into the accident. If someone chose a different school, maybe they would have met their soulmate instead of being stuck in a soul-crushing job.

And if I hadn’t pushed the only woman I will ever truly love out of my life, then I’d be married with kids of my own. I wonder if I’ll ever get over Victory, or if it’s even fair to marry someone else who I could never possibly love as much.

I should have just moved to New York with her. So what if I hate it here? I hate being without her more, and at least we’d be together. Self-loathing washes over me and settles like a heavy iron blanket weighing down every step.

Should I turn back? Knock on her apartment door and tell her I still love her regardless of what she’s doing with her boyfriend? Would she even care? But even if she did care, what right do I have to destroy her happiness again?

Hopefully, the airline will transfer my ticket to the red-eye flight tonight. I debate texting Steve to let him know that I’m available to help tomorrow so he doesn’t have such a long day. Sleep fails me every night, anyway.

Before I can do anything, an incoming text pops up and I pray it is Victory. When Bobby’s familiar mug flashes on the screen instead, all hope drains in my next exhale.

Bobby:How did it go?

Cade:It didn’t.

Bobby:Fuck. Come by my place. We have a home game Sunday, so might as well spend the weekend with me.

Cade:Fuck it. I’m going home. I hate it here.

Bobby:Cade. Man. You deserve a fucking break. You’re insane to fly back tonight. Get your ass over here and stop fucking arguing with me, dude.

Football season is back in full swing, and though I won’t admit it, I’ve missed Bobby like crazy. While I’d certainly rather have Victory in my arms, an unexpected weekend with him will be good for my soul, even if my gut reaction is to retreat to safety.

Cade:I don’t even know where the hell I am. Did I mention how much I hate this fucking city?

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