A Sorta Fairytale (13 page)

Read A Sorta Fairytale Online

Authors: Emily McKee

BOOK: A Sorta Fairytale
8.65Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Chapter 25

 

 

Alex

 

Tonight’s the night I’m finally going to tell her. I’ve wanted to ever since I took her to the garden and kissed her. I’ve wanted to tell her every single time we’ve kissed. When I’ve held her in my arms. When I’ve murmured sweet things in her ear.

I stand in front of the mirror, making sure I look really good for Stella. She told me it was a special dinner. Well, it certainly is a special one. For me. I’ve got my best on. Jeans and a t-shirt. It’s what I’m comfortable in. What I’m used to. Turning off the lights to my studio apartment, I lock the door, close it behind me, and make the walk to my girlfriend’s apartment.

 

***

 

I stand at the front door of her apartment building and think about how I should say it. When I should say it. I start to overthink when a familiar voice yells from above, “Are you going to stand down there all night?”

Smiling, I look up and yell, “Some pretty thing needs to let me up.”

Her hair sways back and forth. Breasts pushed up against the ledge of the window. Eyes staring down into mine. “Well, I guess I will let your sweet ass up.”

Laughing so hard, I shake my head and yell up, “You’re crazy!”

“Crazy for you!” she yells, escaping from the window and probably running toward the front door.

Next thing I know, the buzzer goes off, and I dart through the door, up the stairs to my beautiful girl.

“Hey, stranger.” She smirks, standing outside her open front door. “Long time, no see.”

I slow my pace and take in her appearance. Jean shorts. Some type of dressy shirt. Her hair in waves and her makeup exceptional. “I saw you two days ago,” I say, standing in front of her. Quickly, she swipes her hands into my t-shirt, pulling me against her and kissing me. Hard. Instinctively, I wrap my arms around her and pull her right up against me so every bit of me is touching some part of her beautiful body.

“That’s too long for me,” she says. “Come on in.” Spinning around, she dashes back into the kitchen. “I’ve just got a few more minutes. Make yourself comfortable. I’ve got wine in the fridge. There’s water. Juice.”

“You know me. I love my juice.” I open the fridge. Grabbing the orange juice bottle, I also get the wine for Stella.” Closing the door, I turn around and see her watching me with a smile on her face. “What?”

She shrugs. “Seems like you know me too,” she says, nodding toward the bottle of wine in my other hand.

“Classy,” I say. “Bottled?”

She shrugs again. “I figured it was a special occasion.”

It certainly is.
Walking to the cabinet, I get two wine glasses and fill them, handing one to Stella. “Cheers.”

Smiling up at me, she says, “Cheers.”

“What can I help you with?” I ask, placing my drink down on the counter.

“Oh no!” she insists. “I want you to just go sit at the dinner table. I’ve only got a few more minutes, and then it’ll be ready for us to eat.”

I laugh. “Okay. Whatever you say, Stella,” I say, walking toward the dinner table.

“You should get used to saying that.”

“Never!”

Cutting up some vegetables, she asks, “So, what’d you do today?”

“Not much.” I grab a piece of bread from the basket. “Just dicked around.”

Dropping the knife on the counter, she spins around with her arms crossed. “Dicked around?”

“What?” I laugh. Taking a big bite of bread, I chew and swallow. “I can say whatever I want.”

Laughing, she says, “Whatever you say, Alex.”

As Stella continues to chop the vegetables, I stare at her, mesmerized.
I could get used to this. I could really get used to this.
But then I remember Thomas, and my body stiffens. I don’t understand how she is still with him. Why she won’t choose me already. My heart starts to crack. Bit by little bit, every single day that goes by when she is still with him. I want her to choose me. Love me. Forever. I don’t want to think about Thomas tonight. I just want to think about us. Stella and me. I want to pretend for tonight it’s only the two of us. And I want to tell her without any second guessing. Without any other intentions. So I push him aside and think about us, and get back to here and now, this dinner, and what I’m going to tell her.

“Dinner is served!” Stella calls, placing plates filled with food on the table.

“Wow.” I’m in awe. “This all looks really good!”

“It better taste good too,” she says, grabbing her wine. Sitting down, she says, “I practically slaved over this all damn day.”

I don’t hesitate. Getting up from my seat, I walk over and cup her face in my hands. Softly kissing her, I say, “Thank you.”

Her cheeks redden and she looks away from me. “You’re welcome,” she whispers.

God, I could stare into her eyes all night.

“Well, eat, Alex. Eat! I’m starving. I haven’t eaten all day. So if I look like a pig, well, don’t judge me.”

Walking back to my chair, I laugh and sit down. “I’d never judge you.”
Only if you picked Thomas.

Smiling at me for a brief second, she then looks at the food. “So, I’ve made a salad with strawberries, walnuts, and goat cheese. The dressing is pretty good,” she says pointing to a little mason jar in the corner. “There’s bruschetta.”

“Mmm.” I grin, looking at the hard bread with mozzarella cheese and a basil and tomato chunk mix on top.

“There’s wild rice with dried cranberries. And for dessert I made crème brulee with a mix of raspberries, blueberries, and strawberries.”

“Is there whipped cream?”

“Of course,” she says, exasperated. “What do you think?”

I laugh. “This all looks so good. But Stella, no meat?”

“Trust me,” she says, “it’s killing me, but I wanted to do this for you. Not me. This is all about you.”

“Well, thank you, Stella. Really.”

Beaming at me, she says, “All right, enough talking. Dig in!” And we do. We barely talk through our stuffed faces. Before we know it, we’re leaning back in our chairs with full bellies and wide smiles.

“Dinner was delicious, Stella. Thank you.”

“I’m glad you liked it,” she squeals as she gets up from her seat. I start to get dishes from the table when she grabs my hand. “Come on. Let’s go cuddle up on the couch.”

“Okay,” I agree, letting her drag me behind her into the living room.

Gently, she pushes me down on the couch. “Lie down.”

I listen to her. I’ll always listen to her. Sitting down on the couch, I relax against the headrest and hold my arms out for her. She doesn’t hesitate, just begins to sit down and face away from me. “Face me,” I softly say. “I want to look at you.”

She turns around, smiles sweetly at me, and rests against my arm.

Wrapping my arms around her, I kiss her on the forehead. “That’s better.”

“Mhm,” she murmurs.

“So, Stel. Why’d you make me dinner?”

“What?” she asks, exasperated. “A girl can make you dinner, can’t she?”

“I guess. So, no ideas behind it?”

“No.” She looks up into my eyes. “I just wanted to show you how I feel for you.”

I can’t not do it anymore. Leaning in, I kiss her. We share a few light kisses. They don’t turn into a hunger. Just sweet and innocent, the way they’ve always been. Yes, it’s killed me not kissing her further. Not ripping the clothes from her perfect body. But I want this to work, so I hold off until it’s right. When it flows naturally. I don’t want to rush something I truly believe will last a lifetime. So I push those thoughts aside, gaze into her big, beautiful, dark blue eyes, and smile. “I am in love with you, Stella.” Her eyes enlarge and search mine.
She’s going to say it. I know she’s going to say it
. When a few minutes go by, my stomach plummets. I feel like someone ripped my heart from my chest. Tears start to fill my eyes. I thought this was the right time. I thought this was something we both wanted. I know we both feel it. “S-say something,” I stutter. “Please.”

Her mouth falls open and large puffs of air escape.

“Stel. Breathe,” I whisper. I try to calm her down by rubbing my hand against her face, but she backs away from me.

“I can’t do this,” she whispers.

It all comes out in one word, and I have to ask, “What?”

“Please,” she says, shaking her head. Tears falling from her eyes as they close. “Please don’t make me say it again, Alex.”

I don’t want to ask it, but it’s lingering between us. The unsaid truths. The other person she kisses. Cuddles up with. Fucks. It kills me. Breaks my heart every damn time she leaves. Because I know she’s going to him. “Is it because of Thomas?” My voice breaks at the end.

She doesn’t say anything, and that says more than speaking. Instead, she sits up on the couch and runs her hands over her face. “Alex,” she whispers.

“Goddammit, Stella!” I yell, crawling behind her and standing up. “Why can’t you fucking figure it out yet? I am in love with you! Why can’t you say it back? Because I know you feel the same. I know you love me too.”

“It’s not that simple!” she wails, tears pouring down her face.

The old me would run up to her and hold her in my arms. Tell her everything is okay. But not this one. I’m enraged. Pissed beyond belief. But more importantly, I’m hurt beyond repair. My heart has ripped into a million pieces. Shattered like glass when it hits the floor. Shatters and splatters. And no matter how hard I try to pick up all the pieces, there are still going to be pieces hidden behind counters in the cracks. “What is it so goddamn difficult?”

Falling to the couch, Stella holds her hands in front of her face. I want to hold her. I do, but I can’t. I need to know what she’s going to say. So as much as it hurts to watch her break apart right before my eyes, I don’t do anything. Except wait.

“I love Thomas too, Alex. You have to u-u-understand. We have been together for two years. No, it’s not anything like our relationship. But it’s a relationship, and I don’t want to hurt either of you. I want you both to be happy.”

“Stella.” I drop to my knees in front of her. “Look at you. I see how badly this tears you apart. I know you love him. I know you do. But I know you love me too.”

Her hands fall to her knees and she looks at me.

“You don’t have to say it. Tell me when you’re ready. But I know you love me. I’ve felt it for a long time.”

She shakes her head, tears rushing down her face. Hyperventilating, she says, “Y-y-you have t-t-to go.” She doesn’t allow me to say anything, just stands up from the couch and moves to the door in silence.

“I’m not leaving.”

“Alex, please,” she whispers.

I shake my head, stubborn and bitter as all hell. “No.”

“Please don’t make this more difficult than it already is.”

“Stella,” I say softly, “I want you to think, and I want you to think hard. Who do you love just a little bit more? Who do you see spending the rest of your life with? If you can’t answer right away that it’s me, I’m clearly not the person you’re meant to be with. And it’s clearly him. To see you happy, I would gladly step aside. Because I want that for you. I want that light in your eyes and that beautiful smile always on your face. I want the laughter in your voice and to see you comfortable. What I would kill for is for it to be with me. But if it’s not, then I would t-t…” A lump forms in my throat, and I have to take a second. I can’t cry. I can’t. I can’t show her how badly this is tearing me apart. Ripping me to shreds. Breathing in deeply, I let it out. “But if it’s not, then I would try to move on. Try to move on from the best thing that’s ever happened to me. As long as she was happy, I would be fine.”

“Please, Alex,” she begs, falling to her knees on the hardwood floor, tears racing down her face. Mascara streaks from her eyes to jawline. 

“You have to choose, Stella. You have to choose one of us. You can’t keep playing this game. No, I don’t know Thomas. No, I don’t want him to have you. But it’s not fair to drag our asses through the damn mud anymore. You have to choose.”

“I can’t choose!” she yells, slamming her hands on the floor. “I can’t choose! Because someone is going to get hurt. Someone’s heart is going to be broken. I know what that’s like. I’ve been dealing with it for months now.”

Leaning down and grabbing her hands, I whisper, “Stella. You have to start thinking for yourself. You have to make yourself happy. Who makes you happy? Who makes you comfortable? Who are you in love with?”

She shakes her head, unwilling to answer, and stands.

Smacking my hand against the wall, I see her out of the corner of my eye jump a little. “Goddammit! Who do you want?”

Taking the knob, she opens the door and says, “You have to go now.”

I look at her, amazed she’s doing this. Amazed she’s letting us go. I drop my head and walk out. Heart breaks. Tears escape. But as fucked up as it is, I’m still so deeply in love with her.

Other books

Dyed in the Wool by Ed James
Dead of Night by Randy Wayne White
A Life Less Ordinary by Christopher Nuttall
Compelled by Carla Krae