Chapter Forty-six

Chapter Forty-six

Chloe

I turn on my electric fireplace and grab two wine glasses, joining Charles on the couch. We’re back at my place, and I feel a little better after talking over lunch.

“Red or white?” Charles asks, motioning to the wine bottles on the coffee table.

“You pick. As long as it gets me tipsy to numb the pain, I’m good.” I grab a blanket and spread it over both our laps. The plan is to drink wine, order junk food later, and just hang out. Charles leaves soon to go overseas to work on a movie, and who knows where I’ll be.

“The red then.” He gives me a look and opens the bottle of Merlot, pouring us both a generous amount. “I thought you were feeling better?”

“I was.” I take a sip of wine and lean back. “I’m trying to shake the feeling that things aren’t meant to be and I’m struggling.”

“Just because something isn’t perfect doesn’t mean it’s not meant to be,” he counters.

“I know.” I nod and take another drink of wine, this time setting my glass down so I’m not tempted to drown my sorrows. “And I know a therapist will say my hyper-focus on needing things to be perfect is rooted in my fear of abandonment, which started when my mom died. She didn’t abandon me per se, but I do fear getting…getting left behind.”

“Sam loves you,” Charles reminds me. “And he made it clear that he’s not going to get together with his possible baby-mama just because they’re having a kid—might be having a kid,” he quickly adds.

“But what if they realize how much they care about each other and how well they work together as parents and do want to be together?”

“And what if there’s an earthquake and we die in our sleep tonight?”

I narrow my eyes. “Thanks. It’s not like I was going to get a good night’s rest anyway.”

“My point is, Chloe, a million bad things could happen. You’re the one who taught me to take life head-on because we never know what day will be our last. I know this isn’t the same thing here, but if you go forward thinking things aren’t going to work, then they won’t. If you assume Sam is going to start having feelings for Stacey, you’re going to subconsciously push him away.”

He’s right, and I’m hoping by the morning I’ll see things much clearer. I’m emotional right now, and I know myself well enough to know I need to let this play out, to wallow in self-pity for the rest of the day, but then snap out of it in the morning.

Both of our phones ding with texts at the same time. Karina, our publicist, sent us both the same TMZ article that claims we’re back together. The photo used is a good one, I’ll give them that. But instead of a tight embrace that will lead to something else, Charles was hugging me out of comfort, letting me press my face against him to hide my tears from the paparazzi we knew were watching us.

“Get ready for another backlash when fans find out we’re not dating,” I grumble and look at Charles. “Do you need to let Eric know this isn’t what it looks like?”

“Nah.” He waves his hand. “He knows about our arrangement.”

“When you say it like that, it sounds like we’re fucking or something.” I laugh.

Charles is still staring at his phone, brows pinched together. “I think I might…I might be ready to come out.”

“Oh my god, yes! That’s huge!”

He puts his phone down and shakes his head. “I should probably start with my dad, right?”

“If that’s what you want. I’m here for you no matter what, you know that.”

“I do.” He loops his arm through mine and pats my hand. “You’re my ride-or-die.”

“Same.” I rest my head on his shoulder. “Speaking of Eric, how are things? I need to meet him soon.”

“Things are going well,” he says, smiling as he talks. “We were going to get dinner tonight, but…you want to meet him today? He could pick up that vegan pizza you like and come here.”

“Don’t cancel a date because of me.”

“It’s not a real date.” Charles sighs. “Can’t be that obvious.”

“Ah, got it. Yeah. I’d love to meet him.”

“You sure you’re up for it?”

I push my hair back. “Yeah. I don’t typically like to break down in front of people I’ve just met.”

“Hah. I’ll let him know.” He texts Eric and then we bicker over what movie to watch. I’m refilling my wine when Sam calls.

“Hey,” I answer and cross through the living room, going out into my backyard.

“Hey,” he says back. “Finally got a hold of you.”

 “Phone tag isn’t as much fun as phone sex.”

“Not at all. You want to have phone sex now? I’m in my car in the hospital parking garage. There’s a fifty-fifty chance someone will walk by, but I have a blanket.”

I laugh. “It wouldn’t be the first time in the last few days I got you off in your car.”

“Fuck, I’m going to get hard just thinking about fucking you.”

“Your windows are tinted.” I go to the edge of my pool and sit down, sticking my feet in. I changed into athletic shorts and an oversized t-shirt once we got back from lunch. “So you got called in?”

“Yeah. We had burn victims flown in.”

I shudder. “I don’t know how you do it.”

“It’s not always easy,” he confesses. “How’d your meeting go this morning?”

“As expected, and no, I don’t know what I’m going to do yet. I’m leaning toward turning it down.”

“Really?”

“Yeah. It’ll be a lot of traveling and—”

“But you like traveling, don’t you?”

“I do, but there’s something else I like more and—”

“You haven’t made a decision yet, have you?”

“No,” I answer. “I told them I’d need some time to think it over.”

“Good,” he rushes out, and I’m getting the feeling he wants me to take it. Not being able to see each other is a big reason I would turn this down, but having to let someone use my name with no final say really doesn’t sit well. I’ve seen fellow authors have their careers ruined by bad ghost writers.

“Yeah. It’s, uh, a lot to consider.” I swish my feet around in the water. “Oh, if you happen to see on social media that Charles and I are back together, don’t worry,” I say with a snort of laughter.

“Hah. I already saw that TMZ article. Rory just sent it to me, panicking that you dumped me.”

“I’ll keep you around a while longer. Charles is my best friend but our fanbase loves to ship us. I’m sorry if that’s weird.”

“You don’t have to be sorry. I guess I’ll have to come around more and act like a possessive vampire.”

“You read my books? You’re a fast reader.”

“I might have picked up the first book last night. I couldn’t sleep without you next to me. Oh, shit,” he says when his phone beeps. “I gotta go back in. And don’t worry, Chloe. I trust you over any article. Love you.”

“Love you too,” I rush out and set my phone down after we end the call. I stay outside for a few more minutes, trying not to break down everything Sam said. Something was off. He was…was…chipper. More so than normal. Shaking my head, I get up, dry my feet off and go back inside.

A few hours later, Eric shows up with my favorite vegan pizza—the one I posted about years ago and got my dad started on teasing me for being a Valley Girl—and more wine.

“I might have let him know you’re having an off day,” Charles says after we go through introductions. “Which is something we all know too well. So let’s get our drink on.”

“Just keep my phone away from me.” I take the wine into the kitchen. “We do not need to make drunk TikToks again.”

“Oh, I think you do,” Eric insists. “I saw that last one. You two are hilarious.”

I roll my eyes. “I am way too old to do those dances. That was my first and last time I use that app. I*******m is enough for me.”

“I*******m is for old people,” Eric teases, and Charles and I fake gasp. We take the pizza and a few bottles of wine outside. Having Eric here is a welcome distraction, keeping me from obsessing over all the worse-case scenarios I can think of.

For a while, at least.

I open a fourth bottle of wine, ignoring the voice in the back of my head telling me to stop drinking because the more I drink, the more emotional I’ll become. I’ll forget about not being dramatic and I’ll start crying—and I really don’t want to totally break down in front of Eric. But I can’t help the thought that creeps into my mind as I make sure the guest room is ready for Charles and Eric.

What if Sam doesn’t want any more kids after this? I know without a doubt I want to be a mother. I always assumed I’d be able to birth my own child, but if I can’t, then I know for sure I’d adopt. And if that’s not something Sam wants since he already has a kid, well…it would be a deal-breaker for me.