Letting You Go Was The Hardest Thing

Letting You Go Was The Hardest Thing - Chapter Thirteen

Letting You Go Was the Hardest Thing

Copyright © 2012 All Rights Reserved

Chapter Thirteen


Charlotte



I knew it was a mistake coming home. Oh, yes it was.

           Though I wasn't given a choice, I could have chose not to, but I still did anyway, much to my chagrin. As Mike put it (as painful as it is to bear), I need to.

             For closure.

             Pfft! Closure my ass.

          The amount of drama unfolding in front of my very eyes astounds me. I don't even know half what's going on. One thing's for sure, the two months needed to pass by fast. Heck, if there was a remote control that manipulates time, I'd jump at the chance to buy one. With the knowledge my sister was going to tie the knot with the man I loved was unbearable - it was my doing in the first place. I let him go for my sister, and the heartache that comes along was a price I would gladly pay.

           Ugh. I am too nice for my own good.

           "Charlie bear?"

       With a slight jolt, I shifted my position from the couch in our living room, and look over my shoulder to see Mike smiling at me, ready for our planned day out with Caroline and Dalton. He was looking hot with his usual white v-neck shirt, faded low slung jeans and sneakers. He liked it simple and comfortable.

          He was dressed for comfort.

         Originally, it was supposed to be mom, Caroline, Dalton and I heading for the schedule visit to the caterers to try out some cuisine for the reception. Unfortunately, mom couldn't come, so I insisted to have Mike tag along instead. There was no way I was going to be stuck alone with the duo being the third wheel. No, thank you. As Caroline stated - more like demanded - we should be heading out as early as 8:00 o'clock am. However, it was now 8:30 o'clock.

          Ha!   

       To think she pounded on my door yesterday, thinking she was pressed for time.

         "Where's Caroline,and Dalton?" he asked, a small frown on his face.

       I stood up, and shrugged. "Beats me," I replied, having the faintest clue. For all I know, they were still cuddling in bed, or better yet, having morning sex.

         Shivers.

         Mike grinned mischievously, catching on quick. "Maybe they are--"

         I groaned. "Oh, just shut it, pervert."

        Still grinning like a twerp, he walked towards me and wrapped his arm around my waist. "Admit it, Charlie boo bear," he cooed. "You worship my pervert ways.

        Cocky much?
   
      I rolled my eyes, putting my hand on is chest. "Yeah, yeah, I even built a shrine for it," I said sarcastically.

     He chuckled. "Oh, really?" he asked, going along with mockery. "Care to show it to me sometime? Does it have my blow up picture on it?"

        I couldn't hold it in. The image of Mike's blow up picture sounded too hilarious so I guffawed like a loon. Only him could think of something as crazy as that.

         That's Mike for you.

         "S-s-seriously?" I asked in between laughter. "Can you be anymore vain, Michaelangelo?"

       He narrowed his eyes to that. "I told you not to call me that," he scolded me playfully. "You should be punished for being a naughty girl."

     My eyebrows raised. 'Punished?' I thought in amusement. "What are you going to do, Michaelangelo? Spank me?"

          Okay, that sounded so wrong in so many levels. It sounded like I'm flirting with my best friend.

       He smirked like the devil that he is. Curses... nothing came out good with that expression. When he lets out that specific smirk of his, it meant that he had something in mind to torture me.

         "No. Something much better," he said mysteriously.

        "And that is...?" I asked, a bit wary. 

       "This," he said, and with swift movements, I was flat on my back on the couch as he tickled me to death.

        Oh, for the love of Chaka Khan. Not the Evil Tickle Monster!

        "M-m-ike! Stop it!" I pleaded. "That tickles! Stop it! Stop!"

        He laughed. "I will... if you promise to stop calling me by my full name," he bargained.

       I nodded my head vigorously, not able to take it. It damn tickles! "Okay, okay, I won't call you by your full name again," I conceded. Geez, why is he so touchy about calling him Michaelangelo?

       Smirking, he let out a victorious expression, and stopped tickling me. "Good girl," he appraised smugly.

         I could only roll my eyes at that. Jerk - a hot one that is.

        I noticed that Mike didn't pull back yet when he stopped tickling me. He was still hovering above me, the victorious expression gone. He had that soft, tender look; the one that could really melt a girl's insides to mush. I knew I should feel uncomfortable when he's looking at me like that. I know  I should be, but I couldn't for some reason. In fact, I felt surprisingly warm, and special...

          Like I meant the world to him.

         Strange.

         "Ehem!" someone cleared their throat.

       Startled, that tender moment was gone, and ruined by that interruption. Slowly turning my head, I saw Dalton at the living room entrance, looking like the epitome of a pissed-off man. He had his arms crossed over his chest, body posture a bit stiff with a deep scowl imprinted on his beautiful chiseled face.

        "I see you both are having fun," Dalton said, his voice clipped, and brisk. His jaw was clenched, like he was restraining himself from blowing up a storm.
   
         Mike sat right up, and I followed his movements. "Hey, man," Mike greeted him, as he was up on his feet. He offered his hand to me. "Are we ready to go?"

        I took Mike's hand, and stood up from the couch. "Thanks," I mumbled my gratefulness. I turned to face Dalton, and if it was even  possible, his scowl had turned murderous, sporting the deadly stink eye. He was glaring at something, and when I traced his line of red vision, it was trained on Mike and I's enclosed hand.

         Like it was hot lead, I let go of Mike's hand, and said, "Where's Caroline?"

         "She will meet us at the caterers," Dalton said. "She had to do something important, so I'll be the one to take us there."

          I nodded. "Ok, cool," I said, trying to pull off nonchalance.
   
         Oh, who am I kidding?

        My heart was beating out of my thoracic cavity, and I felt guilty for some reason... scared that he might look at me differently, knowing he caught me having a moment with Mike. There was nothing to feel, nothing to panic about. There was nothing for me to act like this. I didn't have the right anymore. I stupidly gave that up years ago.

          I should get a grip of myself.

      "We should get going," Dalton said, and then turned around. "I don't want my fiance..." he paused to emphasized the last word, "... waiting for us," and then walked away.

          Ouch.

          I sighed, and turned around to look at Mike. "I guess we should get going," I said softly.

         Mike grabbed for my hand, and gave it a reassuring squeeze. "Yeah, we should."

         I nodded, and started walking. I didn't make the second step, because I was tugged back softly by Mike.

        "What?" I asked, looking over my shoulder.

        "Everything's going to be fine," he said, smiling softly at me.

        I sighed. "I hope so, Mike."

        I really hope to God everything's going to be fine.


*   *    *

It took us 20 minutes to get to the caterers. I wish it was sooner; the tension inside the car was too intense and claustrophobic. Bless Mike's heart for trying to alleviate the tension by cracking a joke, or opening up a topic of conversation. Unfortunately, it didn't work. Dalton's and I's responses to the conversation were single worded, or sometimes never answered at all. It was ridiculous really, and the moment Dalton parked the car outside the caterers, I was out like a bat out of hell. I even inhaled as much air I could get into my lungs because of it.

          Yeah, it was that intense.