Page 32 of A Forever Love
“I’m not gonna lie, this is the first time in decades we’ve brought in someone from outside. But as long as it keeps the family safe, Tony is on board.”
“I have the best men in the business, but I wouldn’t mind having someone like him on. Loyalty is hard to find these days.”
“I hear you. You can consider Tony your right-hand man. He’s personally inspected all the letters and notes Charlie received.” Before we can step into the dining hall, Oscar turns to face me. “Keep my boy safe, Carter.”
“We’ll do everything we can, Oscar. I won’t let anything happen to Charlie.”
9
MERIDA
“Hi, Sam. How’s it going?” I greet the doorman with a friendly wave as I enter the building. It’s been a wonderful two weeks since I settled into the penthouse apartment. While the dorm room offered its own privacy, there’s something truly liberating about having a penthouse with its own kitchen, a luxurious bathtub, and a respectable income. Plus, unlike the last time I left home, I regularly video call with my sisters, text Dad daily with some funny meme, and catch up with Clem about the latest gossip at Vanshionista, the fashion house where she holds a senior management position.
Sam raises an eyebrow at the bonsai plant in my hand. “Looks like you’ve got yourself a new pet.”
“You are a fast learner, Sam.” I chuckle. Only last week, I explained to him how pets are the new children and plants are the new pets, when he mentioned his granddaughter had declared she doesn’t want kids. “I stopped by the coffee shop next to my office.” I set the plant tray and a to-go coffee holder containing two mugs on his counter. “They have a really interesting selection.”
“You’re spoiling me, kid.”
“Nah, just buttering you up for the day when I need to cash in a favor.” With my bag slung over my shoulder, a coffee cup in one hand and the plant in the other, I head for the lift.
“Let me get that for you.” Sam reaches out and presses the elevator button, and like every other day when I step inside, memories of my first day in the building come flooding back.
Carter dragging my bags up the stairs.
No! Don’t think of him.
He’s the reason why I’m here, my last-ditch effort to purge him from my system.
I don’t even dare question whether it’s actually working, because my steadfast belief in out of sight, out of mind is crumbling before me. As much as I hate to admit it, letting go of Carter is easy in theory and much harder in practice.
Balancing the plant against my hip and the wall, I retrieve my apartment key and unlock the door. Carefully, I position the plant on the foyer table, adjusting its placement a couple of times until it finds its ideal spot next to the calathea and the lucky bamboo.
Upon entering the living room, my attention is immediately drawn to the massive bookshelf, a behemoth that arrived the day after I settled in. The robust teak wood frame required the effort of four burly men to maneuver it inside. My fingers glide along the vibrant spines of my books neatly arranged on the shelves, sorted based on genre.
Am I fooling myself into thinking I can ever get Carter out of my mind, or will I become who my dad was after Mom’s death?
No. I shake my head. I’m not going to think such stupid thoughts.
Righting my smile, I make my way toward the bedroom, nonchalantly kicking off my shoes along the way. I head to the bathroom, coffee in hand, where I start the bathwater and add a few drops of lavender oil, and a soothing aroma immediately envelops the space. After tossing my clothes into the laundry basket, I slip into the warm bath, placing my coffee on the bath tray.
A sigh escapes my lips as I close my eyes for a few moments. Bliss.
When my muscles finally relax with all the happy hormones flowing through my brain, I reach for my most recent book from the cabinet under the sink and take a sip of coffee, tilting my head against the plush bath towel.
I gingerly flip through the pages of my latest favorite, a friends-to-lovers romance.
Some childhood loves do get their happily ever after…
Crap! Perhaps this wasn’t the best book for this evening. I attempt to focus on the story, distancing my own emotions, but the words on the page slowly become a blur. My thoughts drift back to a time when I received my first novel as a birthday gift from the man who used to be by my side with a cupcake every year. He had spotted a copy of Jane Austen’s Emma at the bestseller stand in a bookshop.
* * *
Merida age-12
Carter age-23
“I see my two most favorite people are here!” Franny’s voice rings out joyfully. As Carter and I enter the cake shop, she abandons her counter and wraps me up in a warm hug.