Chapter 2: Chelsea

So, here I am, in James’ car, heading to a club in Saint Paul. This is completely out of the norm for me, and one of the few times I have asked anyone to watch my child so that I could go out for myself. I try not to ask my sister to watch my son, as she works way too much, has a ton of her own responsibilities, and I feel bad asking for help so that I can do something for myself or something social. It took everything in me to ask her to watch him tonight at my place. She was so excited to help, and I know it is because she worries about my mental health. 

Yes, I have had a rough life. I keep my PTSD, anxiety, and depression at bay. Also, with now being in my forties I gained this new, I don’t care attitude, which helps a ton, but not completely. We have reached the club now; this should be interesting…I mind whisper to my spirit panel, the Watchers, “Should we put money on whether James meets his mate and ditches me tonight or not?” They just laugh, those sadistic assholes. 

I opened my car door while James threw his keys at valet. It is typical for him to walk ahead of me. I catch up to him as he walks to the entrance. The bouncer lets him in and stops me to check my ID, like seriously, I am in my forties! He looks at it, passes me a questioning look, and I return the look with a “what the fuck” glare. After waving me in, I see James waving me towards the bar. He has found some of his friends at the bar, and I head over there to just follow along. 

After ordering my bottled water and giving the bar tender some cash, we walk over to an empty table near the dancers’ mini stages area and sit down with his friends. Thankfully, I took an end seat so that I can make quick escapes to the restroom, whenever I want to. Some musicians are rap battling on the stage. People are dancing in the pit, and girls in bikinis are dancing on the mini stages. 

I am already bored. After a good hour listening to James and his friends debate whether they should join the rap battle, a gorgeous blonde with the shortest and tightest dress walks toward our table.  Her legs are supermodel long and built. Her eyes are hazel with long eyelashes. Her lips the most perfect shape with dark red lipstick painted on them. She approaches our table, and James and his friends go silent while getting mini hard-ons starring at her. She bends down, leans her arms on the table so that her tits bulge further in their direction, looks at James and asks him if he will dance with her. 

The scumbag doesn’t even blink or think twice, stands up, hops on the table to get to her, and sweeps her onto the dance floor. I didn’t even know the jackass could dance. That just happened! As I say “fuck this” in my head, I grab my purse and stroll towards the hallway where the VIP rooms and restrooms are, as I feel the emotions and pain swelling in my chest. 

One of the rooms has several very large men standing in front of the open door. Must be some serious VIPs in that room to have bodyguards. As I walk past the room, I find my way to the line to the women’s’ restroom. As I wait for my turn, I am doing everything to hold back the tears of rejection that are desperate to explode out of my eyes. James is not worth my tears, I know this, but he just found his mate on the other side of the bridge. Now, I get to endure the required reciprocal pain of rejection and heartache for his newfound happiness to come. 

After the line finally moved and I got into the restroom, I went to the sink to pat some cool water on my forehead, eyes, and neck. The smell in the women’s’ restroom was nauseating and hitting my gag reflex. Yet, the tears now flowing from my eyes needed to be put in check with water. As I continued to splash my face, I remembered that next to the VIP room with guards, was an exit sign. I can sneak out the exit, call an uber, and go home. Great idea, I told myself, giving myself one more quick glance in the mirror before rushing out of the restroom. 

I wasn’t really paying any attention as I rushed out of the door and down the hall when I suddenly smacked straight into a wall. At least I thought it was a wall. My hands stopped the rest of me from colliding with the hard surface. As, I opened my eyes and looked at where my hands are glued to, I realize they are stuck on the chest of a very hard male body. Without removing my hands, my eyes took in the sight of a chiseled chest. I slowly looked up his chest to his muscular and very manly neck. His jawline was that of a god. His lips held a smirk and my eyes stopped on his eyes; obsidian with tiny flecks of deep red wine stared right back into my eyes. Goosebumps covered my body, and a shockwave of electricity ran from my fingertips to my core. 

I couldn’t move my hands. I couldn’t move anything. Suddenly, I felt a surge of powerful energy connect our eyes. The club disappeared. I felt like I was disappearing. My body and mind were becoming so light. I feel like I am floating. The noise of the club muted and all I could hear was my heartbeat and this man saying “Mine.”