From Bully To Beloved

CAL

LAST DAY

Sunday

The next morning brings rain and a sinking feeling in my stomach. Before I even get up, I know Sera isn’t here. I roll over and glance at the time. It’s barely seven, which means she must have gotten up and dressed super early, knowing I wouldn’t be awake.

With determination, I get out of bed and pull on the first set of clothes I can find. Blue jeans and a soft blue hoodie.

Sunday is the busiest day of the week for Sera, but hopefully she won’t be gone all day. I have all kinds of plans for the evening. First, I’m going to order a nice dinner with her favorite dessert. Then, when she’s happily eating, I’ll tell her that she belongs with me. Hopefully, I can surprise her with a new, big apartment. If she’s on the fence, I’ll use my voice to be persuasive. Then I’ll use other means. I’m ready and willing to “convince” her all night if I have to. Or, until Vance shows up, that is.

It’s crazy that I miss her already. She’s not even officially gone yet, and my heart feels like it’s going to fucking crack.Copyright Nôv/el/Dra/ma.Org.

On the bathroom mirror, I find a sticky note:

Good morning Cal,

Two of the girls got sick, and I’m filling in.

My shift ends at 7:30 p. m.

Sorry! I’ll be home before we’re expecting the lawyer.

Sera

Goddammit. She literally ran away this morning. I don’t care if she’s a manager now and has a lot of shit to do. There’s too much to talk about, and there’s no way we’ll be able to hash it all out before Vance gets here tonight, not while Sera is hiding out at work.

As I march through the apartment, heading for the door, I pause long enough to find Sera’s things gathered in aneatpile in the living room.

Aneatpile?

What the fuck?

It adds fuel to the already-raging fire. She’s already packed, and she made sure to put everything in anorderlystack. Since when is this woman orderly? I glance at the couch-even the fucking pillows are neatly arranged. What the actual fuck? And why did she pack? If she thinks she can brush me off and move on like that, she has another thing coming.

No.

I’m not letting her go.

We’re good together. She knows it as well as I do.

I’m keeping her.

Fuck this.

What the hell is she still so fucking scared of?

Iget on my bike and haul ass to The Diner. It doesn’t open until eight. I can catch her before she starts her shift. But midway, I slam on my breaks and take the exit to the shop. I’m not going to push any more than I already have. I’m done reminding her over and over again of who she is-an artist dammit-and that her place is in my arms.

The rain is a cold drizzle, but I don’t feel it. I’m too fueled by adrenaline to realize I’m not even wearing a coat.

My shirt is almost soaked through when I pull up in front of the dealership. I get in before everyone else. We’re keeping an all-star team ready to handle the weekend rush. It’s a blessing that states like New York don’t enforce Blue Laws.

I move my bike into “the garage” and over to a smaller workstation in the corner I’ve had set up for my use, at least for the time being. There are shelves everywhere, for quick access to the tools I need. My hands are steady while my mind races, thinking of Sera and our appointment with Vance this evening. A couple staff members greet me, however, when they notice the look on my face, they quickly go the other way.

“How the hell are you?” Justin asks as soon as he gets in.

“Justpeachy.”

“Uh-oh, what happened?”

My voice is short and clipped. “She packed.”

“Bullshit.”

“Seriously, Justin, she fucking packed.” I try to stay calm. “But she’s not going to leave.”

He grins and claps me on the back. “Fucking-A. I’m glad you two worked it out. But if it’s all cool, why the brooding?”

I brush his hand off and give him a dark look.

“Ohhh, I get it,” Justin says, realization dawning. “Sera’s not officially staying, is she?”

With a heavy exhale, I grab a rag to clean my hands. “We’re going to talk about it after she gets off work. I texted her that I’ll pick her up at 7. 30.”

“What about your romantic dinner plans?”

“Scratch that. Not happening.”

“What’s the problem? She’s not attracted to you?”

I glare at him. “Sheisattracted to me, for fuck’s sake. Stop pestering me about the same shit.”

“What the fuck is the fucking problem then?”

The million-dollar question. “The fucking problem is that she’s pushing me away, that’s the fucking problem. She’s too scared to acknowledge that our relationship means much more now than when this whole thing started.”

“Dude, I’m your best friend and you know I’m on your side, but, bro, if she wants to leave, there’s nothing you can do to stop her. She’s headstrong as fuck.”

“I know. That’s the thing. I also know for a fact shedoesn’twant to leave. I know she feels what I do. She’s just too scared.”

“Oh, in that case, it’s easy, bro.”

“Huh?”

“Remind her that there’s nothing to be scared of.”

With those last words, he pats me on the shoulder and leaves me to my brooding. How? How can I convince her that she doesn’t need to be scared? That she can take the plunge, and I’ll be there to catch her?

Isn’t that what I’ve been fucking doing all along?

Slowly but surely, I’ve reached my wit’s end.

My cell rings.

“Yes. Hello?” I bark, annoyed as fuck.

“Oh, good morning, Mr. Ashton, my name is Jane Deets.” A chipper female voice in a heavy British accent comes through the speaker. “I’m the realtor you called yesterday to help you find another apartment. I’mmorethan happy to assist you.”

I breathe out, calming myself. Jane Deets?

“Hello, Mr. Ashton? Are you there?” the pleasant voice asks before I have a chance to respond.

“Right, Jane.” I would’ve never guessed it was her. She doesn’t sound bitchy like Justin had warned me she was. She sounds delighted. “Hey, good to hear from you.”

“Absolutely! I was wondering if you had time today to see some potential candidates. I have found a few rather smart places matching your criteria, and I think you’re going to love them.”