She said, “I love you.”
That was music to my ears.
But I can’t help but think, What the fuck is wrong with me?
I’ve thought it every day for the last week.
What the fuck is wrong with me?
I don’t fall in love with women. I’ve seen the heartache that comes when that happens. Someone always gets hurt.
But, with Sloane, everything is different. I’ve fallen in love with her. I want her to be mine forever. I just have to make it official.
I know she loves me. Even before she said the words, I knew it was what she felt. But something has been holding her back. Something has been preventing her from moving forward. From actually letting herself be in love with me.
She let herself just be in the moment for one night. That one night when she said she loved me. But, the rest of the week, she has kept her distance. She’s been busy at work. I don’t know why though.
Is she upset she found out that I’m a thief, a criminal who has been in and out of jail too many times to count?
Is she upset that she fell in love with me?
Is she not convinced that I’m in love with her?
Does she think our lives are too different for us to be together?
Whatever the reason, I’m going to fix it tonight.
I haven’t told her why I started stealing yet. She probably thinks I was just a crazy, wild child who liked hurting people. And, while that is part of the excitement for me, it’s not the whole story. Not even close. I have to explain everything to her.
Sloane is working late again tonight, which gives me plenty of time to set everything up. I sling the bag filled with roses and flowers over my shoulder. I want tonight to be perfect for her. I’ll start with decorating her bedroom. I figure we will stay at her place tonight since it’s much nicer than mine. Tomorrow, I hope we can start searching for a new place together. Or maybe we will always split time between my place and hers.
I don’t give a damn where we live. I just want her.
I have more decorations in the truck she bought me. I’m going to use them to decorate the beach later. I know it’s cheesy to propose on the beach, but it’s our place. Sloane won’t care that it is cheesy. She will care that I put effort in. She will care that I love her. That’s the only thing that is important.
But, still, I have no idea if she will say yes. I think most men who propose already know what the answer is going to be when they ask the question. They have already talked to their girlfriends about it. They might have even picked out a ring together, and then they go through the motions of proposing.
Sloane has no idea I’m about to propose. No man would propose so soon. But no man would have gotten himself in this predicament anyway. Fake married to a woman after he stole her from her fiancé, only to later fall in love with said woman. It’s a crazy story that is only found in romance books but not in real life.
So, when I propose to Sloane, it has to be big. I’m going all out with decorations, music, champagne—the whole bit. I’m being the most romantic I can be.
But, first, I’m going to tell her everything. I don’t want her to say yes without knowing fucking everything.
I walk over to the elevator where Archie, the elevator operator and security guard, greets me.
“Hello, Mr. Calder. How are you doing today? Here to see Ms. Hart?”
“I’m doing very well. I have a nice surprise tonight planned for Sloane. So, don’t ruin it for me.”
“I’m very happy to hear it. Ms. Hart has seemed very preoccupied and stressed lately. Hopefully, you’ll be able to cheer her up.”
I frown and nod as I step into the elevator. Even Archie has noticed that Sloane is unhappy. Maybe I missed something else that has been going on. Maybe I should wait a little longer to propose.
I feel the box that the ring is in burning a hole in my suit pocket. I can’t wait to propose.
For one, as soon as Sloane sees me in this suit, she is going to know something is up. I’m wearing a suit, so she will know that I have changed. That I’m not just a thief or a surfer. I’m a man desperately in love with her, who will do anything for her. Including buying and wearing a useless suit.
The elevator doors open, and I step out and walk over to her door. I dig in my pocket and realize I forgot the keys to her place. I never lock my place, so I usually leave my keys in the truck. I know, if someone really wants to steal it, it won’t matter if the keys are in it or not. I hate using my skills to break in her door today, but I’m not going all the way back to my place to get the keys to her place. I’m on a tight schedule because, at anytime, Sloane could call me and tell me that she’s leaving work and ready to go out to dinner. That’s all I’ve told her. That I’m taking her out for dinner. It is a Friday night after all.
I’ll just pick her up and get her to change into a nice dress. I know her well enough to know that she has plenty of nice dresses hanging in her closet.
I pick the lock on the door and enter her condo. I take a deep breath as I always do when I enter her condo. It smells like clean linen. It’s Sloane’s smell. Clean and perfect, just like her.
I’m sure she has her faults, but these last few weeks, I haven’t found any. She’s perfect. Intelligent, sassy, caring, and beautiful. She’s everything I never knew I wanted.
The linen scent that is Sloane is covering the condo. It smells stronger than usual, like she was recently here even though I know she’s been in her office all day long. I could just stand here and smell her all day, but I have to work fast.
So, I start walking to her bedroom when I hear soft music playing. I shake my head. Her alarm clock plays music like that. She must have forgotten to turn it off when she left for work this morning. She stayed in bed while I got up to go surfing this morning, like usual.
I open the door and freeze.
I feel like I’ve just been stabbed in the heart.
Shot.
Broken.
And left for dead.
I can’t move.
I can’t breathe.
And I’m sure that my heart has stopped beating.
I close my eyes, hoping that this is a nightmare. That, at any second, I’m going to wake up and realize that what I’m seeing isn’t really happening.
But, when I open my eyes, she’s still there, lying naked, in her bed with another man.
It has to be a mistake.
She’s perfect.
She loves me.
She would never hurt me like this.
Never.
I take a breath, finally able to breathe, when I realize that it is some sort of mistake. She has to have an explanation for what is happening.
“Sloane, what’s going on?” I ask like I’m not witnessing what I am.
“I’m sorry,” she says with tears in her eyes.
Two words.
“I’m sorry.”
They tell me everything I need to know.
She cheated on me.
She broke my heart.
She made me believe in love and then destroyed me.
I’ll never recover from this.
I know that.
I loved her more than I loved stealing.
I loved her more than I loved surfing.
I loved her more than I loved breathing.
But she didn’t love me back.
Or, if she did, she was too scared to just be in love with me.
She had to ruin any chance that we had.
My initial gut reaction is to walk over and punch the naked man in the face. He deserves it.
But then, when women slept with me, I never thought I was the reason for them to have strayed. Well, at least, not the full reason.
People aren’t supposed to get married. Everlasting love doesn’t exist.
I knew that.
But I let myself fall in love with Sloane anyway.
I want to hate her. Yell at her. Do something to show her how angry I am with her.
But I’m not really angry. At least, not with her.
I’m angry with myself.
Love doesn’t exist. And, when it does, it’s selfish love that only lasts until that person falls in love again—with someone else.
So, as much as I want to yell at Sloane, ask her why, try to understand her, try to forgive her…
I can’t do any of those things.
All I can do is turn around and walk back out the door, pretending like life didn’t just fuck me over again. Like the only woman I’ve ever loved didn’t just steal my heart and then destroy it.