Chloe

The bus was louder than the one I’d taken earlier in the week, what seemed like a full century back. Having left my phone at the house and practically everything else, I had nothing to block the sound. So I wrapped my head in my sweater and tried to sink into some kind of coma where there was no sound and no pain. No vision of Alex dancing in front of my eyes, typing out those cruel words.

Too numb to even cry, I rested my palm over my unborn child and whispered, “Just you and me, little one. Somehow, we’ll make it work. Just like we were planning before he walked into our lives.”

Technically, I’d walked into his, I had to admit. I’d forced myself into the seat beside his and now I was paying dearly for my temerity.

I didn’t ask to love him, I whispered to myself. That was never part of the plan.

But I had, almost immediately. Something about that stupid newspaper, his immediate surly attitude, followed by the shift to total protectiveness, had reeled me in like a fish. And now I was left flopping on the line, struggling to breathe.

God, what a morbid image, but it was exactly how I felt. He’d played me for a total fool, gotten me in bed almost instantly, and then laughed about it behind my back, undoubtedly just waiting for me to head back to Chicago at which point I’d never hear from him again.

The air beneath the hoodie was getting stuffy, so I finally shoved it back and took a deep breath in. The noise was still there. Screaming baby in the back; arguing couple on my left; someone’s non-soundproof earbuds in the near vicinity, venting misogynistic lyrics every which way.

“You okay?” my seatmate asked sympathetically.

He was a gray-haired guy, actually someone I could see reading a paper. His face was creased and kind, almost making me tear up. But not quite. I couldn’t let go until I got back home. Then I’d wallow for a few days before picking myself up and moving on with my life.

“I’m … fine,” I mumbled, reaching for the water bottle Mara had insisted I take, if nothing else.

“You’ve been tossing and turning for over an hour.” He shook his head. “Doesn’t seem fine to me.”

“Has it been that long already?” I scrubbed at my eyes in disbelief. “Sorry, have I kept you awake?”

“You’re fine,” he assured me. “I rarely sleep in automobiles. Leaves me queasy.”

Nodding, trying to remain polite while utterly uninterested in conversation with anyone, I squeezed past him and stumbled down the aisle to the bathroom. Predictably, it was less than clean but at least I managed to wash my face and even attempt to square my shoulders in the mirror, giving myself a stern lecture.

“You didn’t know him. Whatever you’re feeling is an exaggeration, probably because of your pregnancy hormones. You may have thought you loved him, but you didn’t. And even if you did, he was way out of your social stratosphere. There was never any chance, kid. Just deal with it.”

Shaking my head and trying to force myself to believe, I stepped out of the bathroom and discovered to my surprise that we were stopped. With relief and more than a little confusion, I stood in the back and watched everyone in the bus, screaming baby included, vacate the premises.

The driver glanced at the way I was protectively holding my stomach, something that was becoming more instinctive by the minute, and nodded. “You can stay on the bus, miss. We’re having some mechanical trouble and just sent for another bus to come meet us so you all can transfer onto it. Go ahead and get you some rest while it’s quiet.”

Gratefully, I sank down into my seat, minus my chatty seatmate, and reached for my hoodie once more.

 

Time must have passed. I wasn’t sure how long, but I actually managed to doze a little, until my seatmate returned and gripped my shoulder, shaking me, clearly telling me to move out of his window seat. It was just so much easier to rest when my head was pillowed on the glass, rather than my own shoulder, though.

“Chloe. Chloe. Damn it, Chloe, wake up.”

I frowned and blinked away the sleep, wondering how my seatmate knew my name. “Leave me alone. Just a little more sleep, please, then we can switch seats.”

“Chloe!”

The abrupt change in volume had me shooting upright. I shoved the hoodie away in alarm and suddenly everything swam into focus.

Alex stood in the aisle, his jaw set grimly.

“No. You’re not here,” I muttered. “I’m on a bus, headed home.”

“Honey, your bus left a good while back,” he replied, with a note in his voice that I couldn’t decipher.

“What are you talking about? We were going to transfer—”

“And they all did. You slept through it. And now you’re awake and you and I are going to talk.”

“What?” I said in horror, scrambling to my feet and almost smacking my head on the overhead baggage rack. “No. I need to be on that bus!”

“No. You need to be with me.” Alex blocked my exit from the seat, his big body preventing me from any chance of a sneak getaway. “You hurt me, Chloe.”

“I hurt you?” I said in amazement. “Please. I saw the texts, Alex. I know you played me.”

“I thought we knew each other,” he said quietly. “In spite of only, you know, knowing each other a few days. I really thought we got one another.”

“So did I,” I blurted out, tears rising to my eyes and starting to slip down my cheeks in spite of my earlier resolution.

“Honey, I didn’t write that message. Or rather, I did, but not the way you think.” Pulling out his phone, Alex pushed it into my hands and then stood there, waiting.

“I don’t want to read it again,” I whispered.

“Please, Chloe. Give me a chance. Just one chance?”

The pleading in his tone broke me and with extreme reluctance, my eyes so blurred I could barely make out the screen, I glanced at the words I’d memorized.

Esme’s hot, right? I’m not slumming?

She’s gorgeous. And you’re an ass.

Really? I’m not too good for her?

Man, she is way too good for you, I texted back wearily. When did you mutate, Dave?

So you don’t see Chloe as slumming?

Unlike your feelings toward Esme, I’m too good for her.

Told you …

That’s not what I meant! I’m not too good for her. Chloe is amazing. And if Esme is as smart as I remember her being, she’ll run screaming from you.

Esme’s mean. I like em that way.

I read and re-read the words, tears still dripping down my cheeks, before the penny finally dropped. “Oh.” Dismayed now in a totally different way, I looked up at Alex where he still stood, his expression totally blank. “Oh … Alex …”

“You should’ve trusted me,” he said gruffly. “It kills me that you didn’t. It makes me want to throw in the towel just like you tried to, because I believed that you, of all people, believed in me.”

“I do believe in you!” I blurted. “Oh my God. Alex, please—”

“My entire family thinks I’m a failure and essentially a washed up nothing. The people who are supposed to know me best think I’m gutter trash. I believed that you knew me better, Chloe.”

The sad look in his eyes killed me, but he kept talking.

“But you know what? Of course you didn’t know. Because the truth is what you kept trying to tell me at Malarky’s. We don’t know each other. Not deeply, anyway, however much we connect.”

I covered my mouth with my hand, outright sobbing now. “Alex. I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.”

“It’s okay,” he said so quietly that I almost didn’t hear him.

I raised my head from my chest and stared at him through reddened eyes. “Huh?”

“I said it’s okay, Chloe. Because you may not know me very well yet, but I plan on spending the rest of my life helping you get to know me.”

As he spoke, he got down on one knee in the tiny aisle and held out his palm. On it sat a box. A box with a ring. A brilliant, sparkling, movie star ring that made my mouth go dry, even as I cried harder still.

“I love you, Chloe.” He looked up at me, his eyes so warm and tender that if I hadn’t already been a red, sniffly mess, he would’ve reduced me to one. “This isn’t a Marry Me. I know it’s way too early for that. This is a Get to Know Me. You can say yes to me later on down the line. But just know that Yes is the ultimate goal. I love you, and I love your baby. And that is never going to change. Please, Chloe. Will you get to know me?”

It was way too early, yes, but that didn’t make one bit of difference as I also knelt awkwardly, wrapped my arms around Alex, and kissed him over and over again, my tears promptly soaking him.

“I love you too,” I told him over and over again, framing his face with my hands. “I love you so much it’s ridiculous. And I’m sorry I didn’t trust you. Forgive me?”

“I forgave you for stealing my seat that first day,” he teased, kissing my nose and eyes and cheeks before finally, tenderly, drawing me into the sweetest kiss. “I’ll forgive you for anything, Chloe. Just get to know me. And let me get to know you, in every single way.”

“Yes.” I held him close to me and whispered the words into his lips, laughing and crying at the same time as he slid the gorgeous Get to Know Me ring on my finger. “Yes. Yes. Yes.”

 

The End

 

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Dirk

I am a master. An elitist. I am at the top of my field, and I know what I am doing.

Women want me. They worship me. They come to me to fulfill all their needs—all of them.

I can have any one of them I want. But I only want her.

A goddess with a perfect body. So pure, so vulnerable. She takes notice of me, but I obsess over her.

I know how this game is played, and I know she can have her pick of the lot as well. Anyone would be lucky to have her, and everyone knows it.

No matter what, no one else can have her. Everyone wants her, but only I can have her.

I will have her.

I need her.

 

Charli

I am young, strong and smart. I can make it in this world.

I know I am beautiful, and my beauty is the kind that the world finds captivating. I turn heads everywhere I go. I might not act like I notice, but I do.

Yet, life is a game. Love is a game. Beauty is a game.

I am beautiful, right?

Everyone is telling me to change. I’m not good enough as I am.

I need to be better.

I want to be on top of the world, but I feel knocked to my knees.

I will rise again.