Out of Focus (Love in LA #3)

“You only want to marry me because it’s what your daddy needs for you to become CEO. You want to marry me because you think I’ll turn a blind eye to your infidelities since we were in an open relationship—if you can even call it that—for so long, and because I’ll always make you look good. Tell me I’m wrong.” I cross my arms, the irritation coursing in my veins enough to power me through this conversation despite my exhaustion.

“You want monogamy? Fine. Whatever.” He flicks his wrist like I’m one of the clients he’s trying to appease.

“So, I’m not wrong then? This marriage is basically just a business deal to you, isn’t it?” He better answer the damn question.

“That’s what we agreed to, right? I get the position, the company. And you get the title you want, a husband and a very comfortable life.” He turns down his lips, as if I couldn’t possibly ask for anything more.

“And what about love? Joy? Family?” Everything I’ve had these last few weeks.

“I mean, we love each other, right? We’ve known one another for years, and we still get along. We could be happy. You can pop out as many kids as you want. We could start practicing now.” He makes a move to stand, but I take a step back, shoving my hand in the air toward him, asking him to stop.

“I don’t want children. You know that.” My face scrunches with disgust at what he just insinuated.

“That was in our twenties. All women say that in their twenties. Then they hit thirty, and boom. They want babies.” He sets his hands on his lap so confidently. God, I want to kick him in the shin with one of those pointy heels Maeve has.

“Not all women. Not me. I don’t want children, and I don’t want to marry you. In fact, I’d like to have as little as humanly possible to do with you, so you can leave now. I don’t want to see you ever again.” My jaw is clenched so tightly that I’m practically talking through my teeth.

“Lottie. You don’t mean that.” He does stand this time, despite me taking another step away from him. “Come on, we’re so good together, babe.”

“No.” I’m running out of room as he keeps stepping into my space. “And if you take another step toward me, I’ll call the owners of the security company at this building. One is my brother-in-law, and the other is the man I’m in love with, so I think they’d be rather interested in knowing there’s an unwanted guest here.” The truth is Owen would probably not answer his phone right now, what with two babies and a recovering wife at home, but at least Rafael would handle the situation. I’m confident in that.

“So, you came to LA and fell in love, did you? That’s cute. His name wouldn’t happen to be Rafael, would it?” He stops moving, but his eyes flick to the front door when he says Raf’s name.

“Who was at the door earlier, Robert?” The blood in my veins runs cold. If Rafael came here and saw Robert, why did he leave? Why wouldn’t he stay and demand to see me? Did he figure I wanted Robert here? Did he see this as his way out of our arrangement? No, no, that’s stupid. Rafael cares about me. I know this. “Answer me.” Robert remains quiet. “Fine. Don’t. Now, get the hell out before I make that call.”

“You will regret this, Charlotte. And when you come back to London, begging for a job and to get me back, I’ll be there. It was always you and me, babe.”

This time, I don’t bother hiding my eye-roll. “Goodbye, Robert.”

Once he’s out of the door, I lock it and start gathering my things. I’ll wait a few minutes to make sure Robert isn’t hanging around, and then I can go and make things right. Because Robert is so wrong. I won’t regret this. Even if Rafael turns me down, I won’t regret telling him how I feel.

55/

please choose me.

rafael

I’ve paced around my backyard so much in the past twenty minutes, I’m starting to get a little concerned that I’m going to leave a mark on the patio. That’s a lie. I’m not concerned at all. The only thing I’m concerned with is Charlie, because in the time I’ve been pacing, I made a decision. I’m not letting her go back to London until she knows exactly how I feel. No more beating around the bush and only giving her pieces of me. She already owns me anyway. She might as well know it.

Still, my skin feels too tight, knowing I shouldn’t have come home. I should have demanded to see her. But demanding is just not who I am, and and I don’t always make the best decisions in the moment. I need time to think about everything I should do before I get it right. And I’ve had time to think about Charlie. Lots of time. Not just today.

So, I hope I get it right.

But now, she’s out with that greasy plate of fish and chips, and there’s nothing I can do about it except pace. And think. And hope to fuck that she chooses me. Because God, I want her to choose me.

I need her to choose me, and I’m not ashamed to admit that.

charlie

I hit send on the email to Robert’s father ten minutes ago, and the lightness I felt was immediate. I locked all the doors. I watered the little plant Rafael got me on our first date. I even checked for any food that might spoil while I’m gone. Because I’m prepared to sit on his front porch until he listens to me. Until he believes me. Until he loves me back.

Yeah, it’s giving Zach Braff in The Last Kiss vibes, minus the cheating, but whatever.

Walking to Rafael’s front door, I knock. Loudly.

Please, please, please be home.

No answer. I try again, and still nothing.