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Dedicated to chi_somm for leaving one of the most flattering comments I've ever received. Y'all are so awesome, man.
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Soundtrack:
Let Her Go by Passenger - the talk between Candice and Will
Let It Go by James Bay (I swear I didn't mean for there to be similar song titles) - when Chance and Candice talk
The next morning I woke up with a throbbing headache, sore limbs and a terrible taste in my mouth. Coupled with the vivid memories of everything that had happened last night and the fact I seemed to be alone in the apartment, it was safe to say it was already not a good morning-and it was barely past eight.
I slowly sat up and rubbed my forehead, grimacing as the world spun and my limbs turned to jelly. I took a few deep breaths and slipped out of bed, noting the fact that the bed next to me was empty and cold and neatly made, and the whole apartment was silent. It was strange for Ava to be awake and gone at such an early hour, and even stranger for Jamie not to be spread out on the couch watching childish cartoons, as was the norm. It gave the apartment an empty, lonely feeling.
I padded to the dresser and grimaced at my reflection, which boasted dark bluish bags under my eyes and frizzy hair. I looked pale and gaunt, the terrible effects of a night with too much vodka. I was surprised I wasn't throwing up at this point, but I'd probably done enough of it last night to merit there no longer being any traces of alcohol in my system. I grabbed my hair brush and combed through the blonde tangles, before making my way to the bathroom.
After doing my business and brushing my teeth to rid my mouth of the awful taste, I made my way into the lounge room, grateful for the slightly frigid air that was currently keeping me conscious. I groaned as a bird tweeted outside, feeling like my head was being pounded into by a jackhammer.
"Crazy night, I take it," someone said ruefully, and I glanced over to see Will flicking through a food magazine, feet propped up on the coffee table.
I grimaced once again, having been caught red-handed. It was embarrassing enough, being reduced to this state, but having your significant other be there to witness your downfall was definitely not helping the situation. "Things may have gotten slightly out of control."
"There's a glass of water and a couple painkillers on the counter," he told me, picking up his magazine with an amused smile. "Shower, freshen up, and then maybe I might get to kiss my bride-to-be without fearing she'll throw up on me."
I felt awed by his sweet words, but it was just the person Will was. He never got angry, and this was one of the reasons I absolutely adored him. No matter what state I was in, he was always there for me. He helped me when I needed it, made me feel better, and always seemed prepared and in control for any situation that may arise.
Which might be why telling him of his father's adultery was going to be one of the hardest things I'd ever done in my life.
I walked over and kissed him on the top of his head, ruffling his curls affectionately. "Sounds like a plan," I told him, walking over to the counter and quickly downing the painkillers and the glass of water that did wonders for my parched throat.
I quickly showered and dressed in something comfortable, and when I wandered out, I was surprised to see him flicking through a bridal magazine.
"One of these things does not go with the other," I told him, leaning against the doorway and cuddling into one of Will's warm green sweaters that he had left behind for me in case I got cold. It was my favorite sweater, not only because of the warmth and softness, but also because on one of our first dates we went down to the park and I had gotten cold. He'd warned me numerous times to bring a jacket lest I'd get cold, but I hadn't listened. Instead of making me suffer through the chill, he'd whipped off his sweater and he'd slipped it on me and kissed me. It was always my window to a happy time.
He looked up and grinned. "I figure if Ava is going to go gaga over the wedding, I should at least try to keep up. I'm currently learning about the intricacies of garters. Please tell me you'll be wearing one for the wedding."
"What, so you can bite it off my thigh in front of dozens of people?" I asked dubiously. "No thanks."
"I never mentioned doing it in public," he told me, and returned to reading. I peeled myself off of the doorway and walked over to him and sat on the arm of the couch, swinging my legs over his lap and wrapping my arms around his neck. I leaned forward and nestled my nose into his cheek, breathing in his wonderfully earthy scent.
"I never got that good morning kiss, you know."
He leaned over and pecked my lips, and I leaned closer, desperate for more. But instead he leaned back from me and turned towards the glossed pages, continuing to read.
Surprised and taken aback at his shrewdness, I leaned back and stared at his face quizzically. He didn't seem particularly angry, and his face displayed no outward emotion.
"Come on, Will, I'm not your cousin," I told him, reaching over and gently pulling his chin towards me. "Really kiss me."
He smiled gently, and his lips met mine. It was soft and gentle, tasting of mint and love. My hands ran through the curls at the nape of his neck, drinking him in. My stomach swarmed with butterflies, and I wondered if the intense feeling of passion would ever leave whenever we kissed. I couldn't imagine the magic ever ending.
But all too soon he pulled back and looked back down to the magazine, and I was at a loss. This was nothing like what normally happened between us. Both of us hardly ever had the self-control to stop, let alone lean back and continue to read as if I'd only given him a cookie. "Is it just me, or are my feelings strangely not reciprocated today? Will, what's going on?"
He sighed and closed the magazine, putting it on the glass coffee table. He shifted over, and I slid into the space beside him. He grabbed a green mug and took a sip of coffee. "You're right. I'm sorry. I just... I have a lot on my mind right now..."
"Like what?" I asked gently, reaching out and fingering a gentle curl by his ear. "Come on, honey, talk to me."
He shook his head. "Just the wedding, the business, everything. Things just don't seem as clear-cut as they used to be."
I leaned back, studying his face as worst-case scenarios flooded my mind. "You mean, you're not sure you wanna marry me anymore?"
His blue eyes widened as he turned to me. "Oh, no. No, Candi, that's not what I mean. That's the only thing I'm sure of."
"Then what's going on?" I asked. "Just talk to me. We'll figure this out together."
"I think my mother's cheating on my father," he blurted out, and I felt my blood freeze. "I've got so much going on right now, like planning the wedding and organizing everything and running the business. And now, to add to that, I think their marriage is crumbling."
"Why would you think that your mother's cheating?" I asked.
He sighed. "I saw my dad with a woman, Candi. And I recognize her. She's, uh, she's a divorce attorney. She's done some business with my parents occasionally. There's only one reason my dad would be talking about divorce, and that's if Mom was cheating. He values her too much as a companion and a business partner to ever end things for any other reason."
"Do you know her name?" I asked. "Or what she looks like?"
"Her name's something like... Laura? Lorraine, maybe?" He looked up at me through thick, dark lashes. "Why do you ask?"
I stood up and turned away, feeling a strong weight on my chest. I'd wanted to do this another way; to say the perfect words or wait for Will's father to do it for me. But I couldn't lie or say I didn't know anything. It would just end up blowing up in my face.
I took a deep breath and curled my toes into the carpet, staring at a picture framed on the wall. "Will, there's something I have to tell you."
I heard him sit up straighter; put the mug on the table. "Candice, what's going on? You're kinda scaring me here."
I turned around and looked at him, interlocking my fingers and trying to find a way to phrase it. "When I went out last night with Ava, Jamie and Chance, I saw something. I didn't want to believe it, but I can't hide it from you."
"Candice, please," Will urged.
"He's not with Lorraine for divorce," I told him. "I saw them last night at the bar. They're together."
He shook his head, standing up. He began to pace; something I knew to be an anxious or angry habit of his. "No, he wouldn't do that," Will said. "Maybe you saw it wrong, or it came across the wrong way."
"Will," I whispered, stepping closer slowly. "I talked to him. I asked him to tell you first, but I can't stand here and pretend I don't know anything and wait for him to do it, and I thought I owed you the truth.
"It can't be," he whispered, shaking his head hard enough to make his short curls bounce. "He loves my mother. He'd never do that to her."
"I'm sorry," I whispered.
He looked up at me, anger flaring in his icy eyes. "No," he said slowly. "It's not what it looks like. It's not right. You're wrong."
I knew he'd be in denial, but I was floored by the accusation in his voice, as if I were making it up for attention. "Are you calling me a liar?" I whispered.
"I know you don't like my parents, but come on, Candice.... You know my father! He'd never cheat on my mother with someone like her. I don't know why you'd say something like that..."
"So, what? You think I just fabricated some story about your father cheating on your mother to make you hate your parents? I'm your fiancée, Will! You know me better than that. Do you really think I'm that shallow?"
"No, of course not. Maybe... maybe you just saw it wrong, or it was misconstrued. Maybe the message got lost in translation! I'm sure there's another explanation..."
"I know what I saw," I told him. "And I know what I heard, because your father told me. You have to believe me, Will. I'd never lie to you, and if you think I would..."
"I'm going to go speak to Dad right now, and we'll get it all sorted out," he promised me. "I'm sure there's another explanation..."
"Will," I said desperately, but he was already striding purposefully to the door. It slammed shut behind him, and I stood there lost for a second, wondering what had just happened.
That was definitely not what I had in mind.
~ * ~
My eyes darted interchangeably between the clock and the phone, as I wrapped my hands around another mug of coffee and my teeth nibbled gently on my lower lip. I sat on the breakfast stool and leaned on the counter, waiting for the sound of the door to open or the phone to ring; anything to let me know Will was coming back.
I currently had mixed feelings over what had transpired in the apartment this morning: anger and, strangely enough, a calm and mellow understanding.
Part of me was angry for his immediate accusation. He and I both knew his parents were no saints, but the fact that he'd be so quick to take their sides over mine stung. We loved each other, and we'd been together long enough for him to know I was not the kind of girl to formulate stories to gain attention or favoritism. I wasn't happy with the fact they'd always be a part of his life, but it was something I accepted because he loved them and I couldn't deny him of something I could never have. Despite their flaws, they were still his parents, and he'd never stop loving them, and I was okay with that. I couldn't begrudge him of that small privilege, considering I would jump at the chance to have the same with my parents.
But it was alarming how quickly he'd taken his father's side over mine. I'd wanted nothing but to help him and be honest with him, and I'd paid the ultimate price. How could you accuse your significant other of something so underhanded when you were prepared to spend the rest of your life with them? It had me second-guessing everything, including the diamond ring on my finger.
I knew I was probably overreacting to the largest degree, but it was very hard to keep a clear head when you don't know where you stand with the man you're supposed to be marrying very soon-or the fact he is so quick to call you a liar or attention-seeker.
Having said that, though, I could weirdly enough understand where he was coming from. I knew for certain that if I found out my mother or father was cheating and probably had been for some time, I'd be in grave denial, too. I'd never want to believe someone I held on such a pedestal would do that, and I'd be quick to blame it on misjudgment before I could ever admit to the fact it was a possibility.
I just had to hope that Will would talk to his father and everything would be cleared up. Because I didn't like how we'd left things, and was eager for a second chance to talk things over.
Behind me the door opened, and I felt my heart squeeze. "Will, I-" I said, spinning on the stool quickly.
Standing framed in the doorway was Chance, holding a brown paper grocery bag with a loaf of French bread and a stick of leafy celery hanging out of it. He threw me a wan, timid smile.
"A little shorter and slightly less dreamy," he told me, and despite the situation, I laughed.
"After the way we left things, I didn't know when or if you'd be coming back," I admitted.
"So, you remember my drama queen meltdown?" he asked, shutting the apartment door behind him and walking over to the counter. He took off his scarf and jacket and began unpacking the bag, which consisted of some chicken breasts, a red onion and a tub of coleslaw, as well as a few other delicacies.
"Yeah," I told him. "And, to be honest, it was kind of justified."
He frowned. "Uh... You mean my accusations of you leading me on when engaged to another man had some truth behind it? Because in the light of sobriety, it sounds kind of stupid to my ears."
I sighed. "Look, the truth is, to me the way we left things was kind of definite. And maybe it felt open-ended for you, but I was so caught up in my web of trying to start a new life, I never really even thought about how you might have been holding up. Though I wanted to start my new future, it was selfish of me to just end things without ever speaking to you again."
"I think my actions the last couple of days prove that you were probably right for cutting contact," he told me. "And you're right. The way we left things... I was hoping for something more later down the track. And that was stupid. You never made that kind of promise, and I shouldn't have expected that."
"It seems we both got lost in translation along the way, huh?" I replied.
He smiled. "I think things started breaking down between us long before I came here."
"Look, Chance, I didn't expect you to fly over here, but I think some forewarning about me and Will might have softened the blow a little," I said. "And I think even though things were over for me, I never stopped to think that maybe they weren't over for you. And it's been occurring to me that I have been planning my fairytale ending with another man right in front of you, and I never stopped to think about how you felt. I'm so sorry."
"Please don't apologize," Chance said. "I had no right to do the things I did last night. I guess I've been holding on to so much pent-up emotion that the first sight of liquor and I'm down for the count. Things have been pretty tough since you left, but that's not your fault. You were trying to live your dreams, and I can't blame you for that. You're happy, which is all I ever wanted for you. And I think I need to stop blaming you and myself and admit the fact what we had is long gone, and I need to let go."
"I think getting drunk last night was a little mistake on both our parts," I admitted sheepishly, and it seemed so strange to me that during the breakup when our relationship was on the free-fall eighteen months ago, we'd been eager to blame each other. And now we were both trying to take the blame. It was ironic, in its own bitter way.
"I seem to be making a lot of mistakes lately." He shook his head. "Gah, I can't believe I did that! How stupid can you get? It's like every time we make progress, I go and screw it all up again!"
I stood up and walked over to him, putting a comforting hand on his shoulder. "Chance, it's okay. Let's just chalk it up to too many shots and not enough breaks in between. How about we just pledge to be sober and call it a day?"
He grimaced. "Actually, in the name of good spirit I thought I might be able to make it up to you with an apology dinner." He pulled a bottle of red wine out of the bag. "That included some wine and some garlic chicken. Maybe it's not as good as your fiancé's..."
I smiled. "That's a sweet gesture, Chance. Thank you so much. But I actually have to work tonight. Can I have a rain check?"
His face visibly fell, and I felt a jolt of guilt. I didn't really want to work tonight with Will, and would much rather have stayed home with some cards and red wine, but duty-and utility bills-called. Still, I hated to rain on Chance's apology parade, so I forced a smile. "But, hey, afterwards I normally go down and help out with the late-night rush at the homeless shelter. Maybe you and Ava and Jamie can come along?"
He smiled, visibly brightened by the prospect of hanging out with our friends and doing a good deed. "That sounds great."
"Get the guys together and meet me at nine o'clock outside Rive La Belle, okay? Unfortunately for now, though, I gotta go. See you then?"
He nodded, still smiling happily like an adorable puppy. "See you then, Candi."
I sighed and shucked on my coat, preparing for the dinner rush and an encounter with Will, who would no doubt as usual be standing there in his apron looking as delicious as the food.
Damn him.
~ * ~
Look who's finally back! Feels so good to be back online. Thanks for all the support I received when I came back online (over 50 emails from Wattpad to sort through! As you can imagine, I didn't mind a bit!)
Hope you enjoyed this chapter! I know it's kind of a filler and maybe a little short, but I'm happy with it and also with the amount of writing I got done whilst moving! I have so much inspiration for this story!
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