His head drooped and I saw his face scrunch up in pain.
I’d started sobbing, and I reached out to him. He backed away down the hall.
“Alec, please stay,” I sobbed.
I walked to him, but he only retreated further. I wasn’t sure what I wanted. I was still in shock. He was here. He was in Los Angeles. He’d come for me. Why wasn’t I running after him? Before I realized what was happening, he was gone.
I fell onto the floor of my hallway, sobbing hysterically. Everything I’d ever wanted, every ounce of happiness I’d ever felt, had just walked out the door, probably forever. I buried my face in my hands and cried.
“Alec! Please come back,” I wailed, snot dripping out of my nose.
But I knew. He was gone. I took my shoes off and ran downstairs, hoping to find him getting into a car or a taxi. He was nowhere to be seen. I ran down the block, looking for his white shirt. Nothing.
I sat down on the curb and cried for what felt like hours. It had gotten extremely cold, so I wrapped my arms around my knees. Before I knew what was happening, I saw Amara pull up in her car.
“Charlotte? Oh my god, are you OK?” She parked right in front of me, hopped out of the driver’s side, and pulled me to my feet.
“He was here. Alec…” I gulped, “was here.”
I continued to cry, my words stunted by sharp intakes of air.
“And he saw Charlie kissing me and he left,” I said, wailing the last word.
“Oh, honey. You poor thing. Let’s go upstairs.”
I pulled away from her and, like a crazy woman, ran away.
“I have to find him!”
I ran off in the other direction. I lived off of Laurel Canyon, so running barefoot on the sidewalk was not the smartest idea. Pretty soon, I was on the ground, clutching my foot, a huge shard of glass protruding from my big toe.
“Fuck. Fuck everything!” I yelled.
“Charlotte! Let’s go! Inside!” She grabbed my arm. “You are acting crazy, do you know that?”
I relented and let her guide me up to my door, where my clutch lay, left behind in a moment of panic.
***
“Charlie forced himself on me,” I explained over a cup of hot tea. I’d changed into fleece pajamas, and I was feeling slightly embarrassed about my behavior on the street. “I was trying to get away when Alec came up and punched him. He must’ve thought I was enjoying it or something. That’s why he left. He said I was his sun. He said I was a coward.”
Amara sat down next to me, massaging my back.
“He came back for you. Why do you think that is?”
“He had lilies.”
“Your favorite.”
“Yeah. I keep fucking this up, Mar.”
“What do you want?”
“I don’t know. How much simpler would it be if I just let him go? He’s not coming back. I had my second chance and blew it. Tonight was my third chance and I blew that, too.”
“Is that what you really want? To let him go?”
“I don’t know.”
“Can I say something?”
“Of course.” I sipped my tea.
“Those emails from you in Wales were so joyous and free. I’ve never felt such happiness through a screen before. You radiated happiness. I know it was mostly Alec, but also, I think it was Wales. And when I picked you up from the airport that day, when you came home… everything had changed. You were a different person. You were numb, depressed, and sad. You were a shell of your former self. That is, until tonight. Even though you were acting insane, I saw that same spark in you tonight. Your eyes had some kind of fire behind them, and even though you were crying in the street, you were alive, Charlotte. You were acting like yourself again.”
I shrugged. I knew she was right.
“It’s too late now. He’s gone.”
“OK, I hate to sound bitchy, but what the fuck is wrong with you?”
I was stunned.
“What?”
“You’re here, moping and sad because Alec left, and you know you made the same mistake twice, but do you know what’ll fix it?” I looked at her quizzically. “GO TO WALES! For fuck’s sake, Charlotte, go after him! Isn’t it obvious? You can either stay here, stagnant and alone, wishing you’d gone after him, or you can actually go after him.”
“He’s not going to take me back.”
“I’m going to say it one more time. GO TO WALES. You’ll never know if you don’t try. You’ll never know. You’ll live your whole life wondering… what if? You’ll ask yourself the same question over and over again. What if? What’s holding you back? You’re not married anymore. Your job is, no offense, just Sam taking pity on you, and this apartment…” She looked around. “This is not you. I think you can be happy again. In Wales.”
“Is my job really just Sam taking pity on me?”
“You mean you didn’t know that?”
We laughed for a few minutes. She was right. But it was something I had to sleep on. I couldn’t make any rash decisions.
“Donuts?”
***
The one good thing about my shitty apartment was that there was a 24-hour donut shop right on Laurel Canyon, literally one hundred feet away from my front door. Amara and I had taken frequent trips to this little gem over the last couple of months. I’d eaten donuts for dinner on numerous occasions. I may have lost weight, but I was probably going to be diabetic by age forty.
As the door chimed and we walked in, Amara went over to pay. She’d since taken on the responsibility of the “richer friend”, therefore paying for our lunches and meals, since I made just over minimum wage. I let her, only because I’d been the “richer friend” for the last five years before her recent promotion. I sat down and looked around as Amara picked out the best chocolate and maple bars for us to gorge ourselves on.
It was then that I saw her. Lainey, the psychic, was sitting at the booth next to me. She smiled and waved. My mouth hung open in a giant “O”.
“What I'm seeing isn't lining up with what you're telling me.”
I pulled my hands away at this.
“Excuse me?”
“What I mean...” she said slowly, enunciating every word, “is that what you are saying, and what I am seeing... they aren't the same. I can see that you're happy. Because you are. I see that. You are with your current partner and he makes you very happy right now. But… you are not with your forever partner. Your soulmate.”
“Excuse me?” My voice had gone up three octaves. I was practically screeching. “I love my husband, and how dare you say we are not meant to be together.”
That was it. I was leaving. My marriage was the one thing I was not going to let her muck up in some pseudo-psychic reading. She could bash my job, my childhood, or even my financial future, but not my marriage.
“Charlotte, please don't be mad. This is not my fault. Nor is it yours. It's the universe, and right now you're connecting with someone who can guide you to your future. This is fate. This is not a coincidence. You met him for a reason. You met me for a reason. Please, do not bring children into this world with your husband. I promise you, in three years, you will thank me. You will welcome twins with your future husband. That is all I can see.”
I got up, aggressively slipped on my shoes, and didn’t say anything as I walked towards the door. My hands were shaking. I was just pulling the door open to leave when I heard her mutter something I would never forget.
“Around Amara's wedding in June, things will start to unravel. It may seem hopeless for a while. But there is much happiness in your future. Just follow your heart.”
I sat there, gawking, as Lainey stood up to come talk to me. Oh no, oh no, oh no. The last time I’d talked to this woman, she’d completely turned my life upside down. I smiled as she sat down across from me at the booth. I looked over at Amara, who was bent over the glass trying to find the most delectable donuts. She was picky about the freshness. I didn’t care. I’d eat a 2-day-old donut
any day.
“She’ll be there for a while,” Lainey said, dismissively gesturing to Amara as she leaned in towards me.
“What?”
“Amara. She won’t see me.”
“Oh.”
“How are you, Charlotte?”
“I’ve been better. All thanks to you.”
“Now, now.”
She’d aged in the last year. Her once dark brown, curly hair was now sprinkled with grey hairs, and fine lines ran across her face.
“Are you here to predict another life-altering event? You know, I always thought I might be a lesbian. What does my future say?” I chided sarcastically, anger tinting my words.
“You’ve met him.”
“Who?”
“Your soulmate.”
I sat there, still as a board. My breath stilled. Her words resonated with me. Your soulmate. It was such a heavy word.
“Alec?” I whispered his name.
“Yes.”
“But… he left.”
“You’ll go after him.”
“When?”
“Tonight.” She reached out for my hands, and I reluctantly let her take them. “Listen to me. You’re very hard to read, but your love life has always been very clear to me. That day I foretold your future, I got you to wake up. Harry was never the one. You woke up. You woke up to your life. Do you get it?”
“I think so,” I mumbled.
“Fate and destiny are very real, very powerful things. It was fate that led you to Alec, was it not?”
I thought about it. It was true. I’d hopped on the first flight to Europe, and I happened to flag down Tommy’s taxi, which took me to Parc-Le-Bouveret. All in all, if you thought about it, it made perfect sense.
“I’m scared.”
I was being honest now. What if he rejected me? What if he didn’t want to see me?
“You’re on the right path. Isn’t it nice knowing that? Go. Go tonight,” she commanded. She got up to leave.
“Wait. How do you know all of this?”
She smiled without answering and walked out the door. The bells chimed right as Amara sat down.
“You look spooked. What happened?”
“I have to go to Wales. Tonight.”
***
I inhaled my donuts as we power-walked back to my apartment. I threw the door open and immediately began unloading my trusty red suitcase. I’d left all of the clothes in there, including the muddy, green wellie boots and Mary’s yellow mohair sweater—my favorite item of all.
“Charlotte,” Amara asked, trying to get my attention. “Charlotte?”
I looked up.
“Hmm?”
She waved to the suitcase, and then to me.
“What’s going on? You dragged me home before I could fully enjoy my chocolate bar, insisting that you had to leave for Wales tonight. Why the change of heart?”
“Lainey was there.”
“Who?”
“The psychic,” I said, exasperated, throwing random clothes into the red suitcase. I was trying to be rational. It was December. It would be cold. I needed to pack warm clothes. “The psychic from January. The woman who started it all.”
“Lainey was there? In the donut shop?”
“Yes. That’s what I’m trying to say,” I sighed, getting slightly annoyed. “She said I would go to Wales tonight.”
“I see.” She handed me a jacket. “I assume you need a ride,” she said, grinning.
I couldn’t tell if she believed me. I wouldn’t believe myself right now. In fact, I’d probably check myself in to a mental institution. It was possible I’d hallucinated the entire evening. Alec, Lainey… maybe they were figments of my imagination. But then I glanced at the white lilies sitting in the vase—the lilies Alec had brought me just an hour or so ago, which had replaced the god-awful red roses that were now sitting inside my trash can.
“Why are you looking at me like that?” I threw some sweaters and jeans into the suitcase.
“Because you finally realized what you need to do. I’ve been waiting for you to come to your senses for three months.”
“Very funny.”
I threw some makeup in, along with a blow-dryer and basic toiletries, and quickly put my passport in my purse. I was ready.
“Oh, no. You’re not going like that,” Amara said, looking disgusted. She pointed to my sweatpants and mascara-stained face. “A five minute shower would do you wonders.”
I agreed, and within fifteen minutes, I was dressed in skinny jeans, a black tunic sweater, a black beanie, and some white hi-top sneakers. I grabbed my navy pea coat, my suitcase, and my purse. Now I was ready to go.
“Much better,” Amara agreed as we got into her jeep. “Now… what are you going to say to Alec when you get to Wales?”
“The truth.”
We got to the airport in under thirty minutes, and I gave Amara a bear hug before heading in to the International Terminal. I approached the KLM desk and, much to my surprise, there sat the same woman I’d encountered in June when I’d first left for Wales. I looked around wildly. Maybe Alec was still in the airport. How many flights left for Swansea every day? It had only been a couple of hours since Alec had been at my front door. Maybe my chance to win him back would be now.
“Hi… Do you remember me?” I asked Dani, the woman behind the counter, who’d helped me the last time I was here. I was grinning like a crazy person.
“Ma’am, no offense, but I encounter hundreds of people every day.”
“Right. Well, have you seen a tall man with dark hair come through here?”
“Probably.”
This wouldn’t work. I needed a new approach.
“OK, well, was there a flight to Swansea in the last three hours?”
“Let me check,” she said in a monotone, typing wildly on her computer.
“No. The last flight to Swansea was at 2:00 p.m.”
“That’s great! Can you check other airlines?”
“Sure. To Swansea?”
“Yes. All departing flights to Swansea from LAX after, say, 9:00 p.m.”
She clicked away and I checked my phone. It was almost one in the morning.
“There was a flight at 9:30 through United.”
What time had Alec come? I checked my phone again. I’d texted Amara when I was walking up to my apartment with Charlie. 8:56. There was no way Alec would’ve made it.
He was still here.
He was somewhere in the airport.
“Great! When’s the next flight to Swansea? Through KLM or any airline. I just need to get there.”
“Oh, yes, I do remember you,” she said drily. I smiled back. “Let me see…” she typed for another few seconds and quickly found an answer. “In six hours. It’s not direct, though. It stops over in Dublin.”
“That’s fine. So, that’s the only flight leaving tonight?”
“Technically, tomorrow morning. But, yes. The one at 2:00 p.m. was the last one, and this is the next one. Can I please see your passport?”
This was perfect. Alec was probably already in the terminal. I handed over my passport and texted Amara.
Only flights to Swansea were today at 2 p.m. and tomorrow at 7 a.m., in six hours. Alec has to be here. Wish me luck!
Dani handed my passport back to me, and I swiftly finished checking in. I thanked her hurriedly as I walked away. Luckily, the line for security was short because it was so late. I jogged through the terminals, looking for A26. When I found it, my eyes scanned the small crowd of people sitting in the waiting area. I checked twice. Alec wasn’t there.
I dragged my suitcase to the bar, thinking he might be there. He wasn’t. I took my beanie off and waited outside the men’s bathroom for a good twenty minutes, and when that yielded no results, I walked up and down the entire international terminal. Alec wasn’t here. I checked my phone. He hadn’t texted or called and, stupid me, I’d deleted his number. I could’ve called the Parc for his number, but something told me he
wouldn’t pick up his phone if he knew I was calling.
As I dejectedly sat down in a terminal seat, I felt the heavy pull of sleep take over. I curled my knees up to my chest and leaned against the seat, placing my hat on my knees for a pillow. The next thing I knew, we were boarding. It was barely light out. I stood up, groggy, and my heart sped up as a tall man five people ahead of me got on the plane. I couldn’t tell for sure, but he was definitely the same height and build as Alec. He was wearing a green parka and a black beanie. I almost ran into the woman in front of me as I kept my eyes on him while the line scooted closer to the ticket scanner.
I didn’t let him out of my sight the entire time we were boarding, but as we entered the plane I realized, to my dismay, that he was seated towards the back of the plane, while I had a seat in the second row. I excused myself from my seat companions, saying I needed to use the restroom. Instead of using the one five feet away, I made my way towards the back of the plane, to where the man had his back to me as he put his suitcase up in the overhead bin. I tapped his shoulder. He turned around.
It wasn’t Alec.
***
After I got back to my seat, I quickly called the Parc. Of course, no one answered. The flight attendant standing to my left cleared her throat loudly, obviously displeased with me. Panic started to settle in. I had no way of contacting Alec. Surely he was going back to the Parc… right?
I spent the majority of the long flight fidgeting. I denied the meal they brought to me. I was just too nervous to eat. As I drifted off to sleep towards the end of the flight, I figured the most plausible explanation was that he was still in L.A., in some hotel room, waiting to leave on some other flight. I mean, he’d traveled all the way from Wales. He wasn’t going to go straight home. He needed to sleep. With the overly expensive wi-fi that the flight offered, I quickly emailed Amara to see if she could leave a note for Alec on my front door. I wanted to keep it simple, and I wanted to make sure no one else would know what it meant.
The Redemption (Charlotte Bloom Book 2) Page 4