Dissonance (38 page)

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Authors: Drew Elyse

BOOK: Dissonance
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A low curse came from Logan before he looked up. When he met my eyes, another harsh exclamation came from him before he was walking towards me. His arms banded around me just as I started choking from emotions determined to drown me.

“Shhh,” he cooed, “you need to breathe. Just let it out, baby. It’s okay.”

How could he say this was okay? How was anything okay after all of that?

“Please, Charlotte, you’re going to make yourself pass out if you don’t calm down.”

I hated that he was comforting me. I didn’t deserve it. Trying to pull away was pointless; I knew he wouldn’t let me go in that state.

When I was able to getting my breathing somewhat under control, I pulled back from him. Neither of us seemed to know what to do with the tension hanging around us.

“Logan,” I rasped, “I–”

“Let’s just go to bed, alright?” he cut me off in that same drained voice. He turned without waiting for me to say anything else, leaving me feeling like I might have destroyed everything.

December

The next few days dragged out slower than any I had ever experienced. Things with Charlotte were tense to say the least. She barely talked to me, and I had no idea what to do to fix it.

Why the hell couldn’t I just keep my mouth shut? I knew better than to push her. What had I been thinking?

Obviously, I hadn’t been.

It did not help matters that while I was trying frantically to figure out how to undo the damage I’d done, Caleb was hell bent on causing as much damage as he could. Logically, I knew that my blow up with Charlotte was not Caleb’s fault, but that didn’t stop me from being pissed when he showed up in my office a few days after.

“What the fuck is Dad’s problem?” he asked as he barged through the door.

“What are you talking about?” I asked tiredly, he was the last person I wanted to see. If he just had his shit together, I wouldn’t have lost mine on Thanksgiving.

“He just told me that I don’t work here anymore. Me! Pretty sure when I came in, there was a sign that said ‘Westfield’ on the door,” he ranted.

“You sound like such a jackass,” I commented, trying to reign in the resentment I had bubbling below the surface.

“What the hell did I do?”

“You know, at least when I was the fuck up son, I knew it. You’re just walking around like an indignant asshole,” I spat. “Dad gave you a chance. Get your ass cleaned up, show up to Thanksgiving for Mom, and you’d keep your spot here. But you put that shit you’re using before everyone. Do you even realize that it’s Thursday and you haven’t been to office with your name on it yet this week? Fuck, Caleb, what did you expect?”

Only in his silence did I actually take a second to look at him. He looked like shit. He had to be at least ten pounds lighter, his skin had dull, sickly look to it, and his eyes seemed empty despite his anger. Caleb and I had not close in years, but the man in front of me was a stranger.

“You need to get some help, Caleb,” I said seriously.

He looked for a second like he might concede, like he might let us save him, but then a shadow came over his face. His eyes shifted from mine and onto the black frame on my desk. It was in his hand before I could intercept him.

“So this is her, huh?” he asked, looking at the picture of Charlotte. I’d taken it months ago while she’d been sitting at the piano, lost in the music.

Ripping it from his hold, I placed it face down on the desk before addressing him. “You would have known that already if you’d bothered to show up for Thanksgiving.”

“Why would I want to meet the little bitch that has you trying to take my spot in this company?”

I saw red. The crack of my fist against his cheek bone echoed through the room before I even realized I’d swung. Caleb stumbled back, biting out a curse and cupping his cheek.

“Get the fuck out of here!” I roared at him.

“Fuck you,” he sneered, storming out of my door again.

After that scene, I was hardly capable of accomplishing a damn thing. The only thing that kept me from going home was the fact that Charlotte would be there, and I had no idea how to handle her shutting me out on top of the rage still boiling inside of me because of Caleb.

Eli came by around lunch, as usual. He sat, staying silent until I finished with the call I was on. My patience gone, I slammed the receiver down when the asshole on the other end finished speaking.

“Your day going that well?” he asked.

“Fucking wonderful,” I spit. “Charlotte’s still like a stranger. Then, Caleb showed up earlier complaining being fired if he doesn’t get his shit together, and only left when I slammed my fist into his face.”

Strong, stoic type that he was, Eli didn’t even bother answering. He just gave me a questioning look, waiting for me to elaborate.

“He said something about Charlotte that she shouldn’t have,” I offered darkly.

He nodded, but I saw the flash of anger in his eyes at my words. He was no more okay with Caleb running his mouth about Char than I was, but he knew I’d handled it. Instead, he shifted gears completely. “So things with Charlotte haven’t improved at all?”

I just shook my head, all the fight and anger draining out of me at the thought. Things had gone nowhere. There was just this unending stalemate. By that point, anything other than the silent tension would have been welcome. Charlotte could yell, she could berate me all she wanted, but being at the receiving end of that fury would be better than silence. That would not happen, though. Not with Charlotte. She didn’t do impassioned showings of her emotions. No, my girl kept them bottled up, holding it all in until it was ready to burst from her.

“Look, man, you can’t keep beating yourself up over this,” Eli reasoned.

“I shouldn’t have fucking pushed her like that. I should have–”

“What?” Eli cut me off. “Given her more time? Sat by while she keeps all of her problems to herself? She’s been doing that her whole damn life. Maybe yelling was a bit much, but I’ve been there. I get it. Spending your life waiting for her to open up won’t work. She needs you to push her, whether she likes it or not.”

I let my head fall back, staring up at the ceiling, trying to get his words to fit into the jumble of thoughts in my mind. Was that really what she needed? Unable to come up with an answer, I shelved it all, too overwhelmed at the moment to figure it out.

After a minute, I returned my attention to Eli. “How’s the wedding stuff going?”

He shrugged and chuckled. “Hell if I know. That’s all Alex’s thing. She can do whatever she wants as long as we’re both in it. I try to keep up when she’s talking about it, but I usually just end up nodding.”

His smile kept trying to grow despite his obvious effort to hide it, until he looked like he was going to bite through his own lip from his effort to keep it down.

“What?” I finally demanded. “You look ready to fucking burst.”

He tried to keep it hidden still, but lost the battle. I’d never seen him look as ecstatic as he did in that moment.

“Alex told me she wants to come off of birth control after the holidays,” he told me.

You would have thought she was already pregnant based on his expression, but I couldn’t fault him. The moment the words sank in, I was on my feet, hugging him and not giving a damn how girly it might seem. The man was getting ready to have a baby, and I knew there was nothing he wanted more.

“Congrats. No wonder you look like you hit the jackpot. A wedding and a baby, it’s all coming together.”

“I can’t fucking wait until she’s pregnant,” he said as we sat. “I’d let her stop taking those pills now if she weren’t worried about fitting into her wedding dress.”

I swallowed the envy I felt for him in that moment. He and Alex were on their way to forever, everything was coming together for them. I wanted all of that with Charlotte.

I spent Tuesday morning trying to distract myself. It had been that way constantly for the past few days. If I wasn’t at work, I was sort of wandering aimlessly through the apartment, as if walking past the same rooms another five times might reveal something that would get my mind off of how messed up everything had become. I cleaned. I organized every little thing I could get my hands on. I probably over-cared for the orchid Logan had given me months ago. It would probably beg me to stop smothering it if it could talk. I just needed a way to keep myself busy.

Since Thanksgiving, things between me and Logan had been strained, and I knew it was my fault. I had never wanted to hurt him by keeping him out. I was doing it to protect him. Or maybe I was just trying to protect myself. I still wasn’t quite sure.

What I did know was that feeling Logan slip away was cutting me open. I had wanted to break down more times that I could count in the past week. I had wanted to apologize, to beg, to do anything I had to in order to get us back to where we had been.

I was even feeling like I might be able to tell him.

Anything seemed less horrific than the thought of pushing him away.

I had thought since the beginning that it would hurt to eventually give Logan up, but once it became real, I was not sure I could do it. Despite my best intentions, despite the fact that I knew he deserved so much more, I was in love with him. The last thing I wanted in life was to be without him, even if that made me selfish.

It was still early Tuesday when the constant pacing became too much. I could lose him, and my answer was to pace the apartment, waiting for doomsday to come sweeping in on me when I could fix things? I could make this all go away if I just admitted the truth to him. If I just gave him those three words he’d given me months ago. With a confidence that I feared could seep from me at any moment, I dressed for the chill, and set out for his office. Waiting for him to get home was not an option; I would chicken out long before then.

As I rode the bus across town, I feared with each stop that I would lose my nerve. My knees shook, and I fidgeted with the bracelet Logan had given me incessantly. Only the inscription calmed me.
There is still time
. I could still fix things; I didn’t have to lose him.

The lobby of the building still intimidated me a bit. James had spared no expense in making a statement of a lobby, even if his offices only occupied two of the floors above. It was a little more welcoming though, now that I knew the large oil painting of the ocean front was Katherine’s work. Turning towards the bank of elevators, I pressed the call button with quaking hands, my foot tapping out an uneven rhythm beneath me.

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