Alina
I MANAGED TO convince Max to give me some time to prepare a game plan for when my father eventually confronted me about ending the engagement to Chris. After the day I’d had, mental energy was certainly in short supply, and there was no way I would be able to wrap my head around what to say to my father if I also had to contend with Max, on top of all my feelings toward him and our current situation.
Warm water surrounded me, the smell of lavender doing wonders at relaxing every part of me, mentally and physically. But it was short-lived because as I felt myself about to doze off, not a smart move I knew, my doorbell rang and was followed by a succession of knocks. The small clock resting on the counter indicated it was ten in the evening, rather late for someone to show up unannounced. Reaching over the tub, I snatched my phone and checked the volume. Maybe I’d missed a call, but there was nothing. I waited twenty seconds to see if whoever it was had left but sure enough, the doorbell rang once more, and again there was more knocking that followed.
“This better be important,” I mumbled to myself, toweling off quickly before throwing on my comfy fleece robe. I didn’t look particularly sexy in it, but I wasn’t about to answer the door in anything else. Slipping my cell into the pocket, I exited the bathroom and proceeded down the hallway.
More knocking.
“I’m coming!” I shouted, bounding down the steps toward the front door, the relentless pounding irritating me beyond measure. As I approached, I saw Chris standing out on the stoop, running his hands through his hair while waiting for me to answer the door. To say I was surprised was an understatement, especially after the scene at my office earlier that day.
Before I turned the handle, second guessing my decision to open the damn door a few times within the span of five seconds, our eyes connected through the glass pane on the sides of the heavy wood. His were full of apology.
“Can I come in for a moment?” I stared at him, unmoving while determining what action to take. What could he possibly have to say to me in person that he couldn’t over the phone? Or even in text? “Please. I promise I won’t be long at all.” I figured I owed him at least a few moments, given I’d broken things off only for him to find out about Max and me the following day.
I nodded, unlocked the door and opened it.
Chris stepped over the threshold and walked past me into the sitting room, the silence he carried behind him almost deafening. When he finally turned to face me, I noticed something was amiss. He looked regretful, almost guilty, but of what I had no idea.
“Why are you here?” I asked, cinching the robe’s belt a little tighter. Suddenly, I’d wished I was fully dressed.
“I’m sorry.” He shook his head before taking a seat on the couch, a position which meant he intended to stay longer than a few moments.
“You should be,” I countered. “I realize I may have hurt you and I didn’t mean for you to find out about Max that way, but what you said was spiteful, Chris. And totally out of line.” I continued to stand because I didn’t want to give him the impression I was completely comfortable with his visit.
He ran his hands down the length of his thighs a few times before picking his head up to meet my stare. “How long have you been messing around with him?”
“I didn’t mean for anything to happen.”
“It just did, right? Is that what you’re going to say?” He took a breath before standing, his steps faltering as he drew near. “Did you sleep with him, Alina?” Before I could answer, he spoke again. “Not once did you give yourself to me. Why? What was so wrong with me?” Chris didn’t appear angry. It was an entirely different emotion which emanated from him. Wounded.
“There is nothing wrong with you. I’m sorry.” There were so many things I could’ve said, should’ve said but nothing else drifted from my lips. I never answered his question about sleeping with Max, mainly because I didn’t want to discuss Max with him, guarding whatever it was between the two of us and keeping my feelings for the man close to my heart.
“Yeah, me too,” he said despondently. After a brief bout of silence, he opened his mouth once more. “I wanted to warn you about something.”
My brows drew downward. “About what?”
“Your father knows,” he blurted. When my eyes widened, the words came barreling out of his mouth so fast I was surprised I understood him. “I was hurt and pissed off at you. Even more so at Colter, so I called your father and told him everything. He’s livid.”
“Yeah, I could’ve guessed that.” I sighed. As I was about to say something else, something probably berating, my cell rang. The sound startled me at first, but then I welcomed the distraction. Pulling it from my pocket, I turned it over and saw Max’s name flash across the screen. Better his name than my father’s. I had no idea why I didn’t let the call go to voice mail, but my finger swiped the answer key, lifting the device to my ear. “Can I call you back in a bit? It’s not a good time.” No greeting, no idle chitchat, just right to the point.
“Oh, uh, yeah. Sure. Is everything okay?”
“Yeah.” As I was about to end the call, Chris spoke up.
“I’m sorry again, Alina.” His voice carried even though he hadn’t spoken loudly.
Closing my eyes and preparing for Max to flip out, I released air from my lungs and shook my head.
“Who is that?” Max’s voice was hard, knowing damn well who it was without asking. “Is that Chris? What is he doing there? Is he threatening you?” Loud puffs of air came through the phone. “Fuck! I’ll be right there.”
“No, you don’t have to come over. I’m fine. He’s leaving.” I’d walked around the corner and into the hallway to give myself some sort of privacy, even though I knew Chris could hear every word, at least on my end.
“I’m. Coming. Over.” He hung up before I could respond.
“Great,” I muttered, walking back into the sitting room to join Chris. Not two seconds later, there was a fierce pounding on my front door, a knock that wouldn’t subside until whoever was outside was let in. There was no way Max had made it to my place so quickly, unless he’d been sitting outside. Which would in turn pose the obvious question . . . what was he doing waiting outside my residence, and how long had he been there?
Prepared to tell him exactly what I thought of his stalking ways, I flung open the door only to come face-to-face with my father.
“What is this I hear you’ve ended your engagement?” he shouted, brushing past me into the foyer. “Are you out of your mind? Do you not realize what a good match you and Chris are?” His face was red, and he was out of breath, no doubt from barreling up my front steps, intent on berating me. “And what is this I hear about you and Max Colter? I told you to stay away from him, Alina. He’s no good.”
I was all set to attempt some sort of calm conversation with my father, but all of that went out the window when he said what he had about Max. He didn’t even know him, not enough to say such things. Sure, I didn’t know him well either, but I knew enough to sense he was a good man.
“You don’t know him,” I countered. “You have no right to say that.”
“No?” he yelled. “I know him a little more than you do.” He reached inside his jacket when Chris appeared, slowly walking toward us with hesitancy in his step.
“I’m sorry,” he whispered as he passed me, curtly nodding at my father before disappearing out the front door.
“Did you patch things up with Chris? Is that why he was here?” There was hope in my father’s voice, but it disappeared when I gave him my answer. One he obviously didn’t like.
“No. He only came by to apologize.”
“What has he got to be sorry for? You’re the one who cheated.” He started pacing, running his hands through his graying hair in frustration. While I wanted to shout at him to leave, I stopped myself. I sensed there was something off about my father. Physically. His face was getting redder by the moment, and he seemed to be having a hard time catching his breath.
Forgetting all about his accusation, a partly false one at that, I approached him. “Dad, are you all right?” I reached for his arm, but he shrugged away from me.
“Don’t deflect, Alina. It’s not becoming.” He scoffed at me before reaching back into his jacket, pulling out a paper. Several pieces of paper to be exact.
“What is that?” My gut told me I didn’t want to know the answer. My heart picked up the pace and my mouth went dry.
“This,” he emphasized, “is exactly why I told you to stay away from Colter.” He shoved the papers at me, but before I could open them to see what he was talking about, there was a knock at my front door. Then another and another, until someone was pounding away with such force I thought they’d splinter the wood.
“Who is that?” my father asked, already walking toward the door to investigate. His fingers circled the handle before I could jump in front of him, and the door was yanked open to reveal Max standing on the stoop, his arm raised for another knock.
“What are you doing here?” my father snapped. “I thought I made it perfectly clear my daughter is off limits.”
Max mumbled something, his words becoming jumbled as all my attention was on the piece of paper in front of me. I’d finally glanced down to see what my father had handed me was an arrest sheet and the name at the top was Maxton Colter. Quickly scanning the document, I searched for the reason, and there it was, halfway down the page.
The words blurred together until I could barely read them. My brain knew what I’d seen, but the realization sent me into a nauseous wave of denial.
Domestic violence.