From Bully To Beloved

CAL

FridayTêxt belongs to NôvelDrama.Org.

Ispend a few hours at the dealership, getting everything ready for the big day tomorrow. Normally, when I open a new place, the last few days are hectic while we get everything up and running. I like to be onsite to smooth any bumps in the road or manage anything unexpected. But Justin has everything handled. He knows what he’s doing, and there’s honestly not much left for me to do.

No text from her.

I call Dennis. He confirms that he delivered the bouquet and dropped her off at The Diner, and that concluded his service.

Once it reaches noon, I decide to call it a day, and leave.

“Hey, bro, you coming to Mom’s this evening?” Justin asks on my way out. “A bunch of us are getting together for a few beers.”

“Maybe,” I grumble.

I won’t. A hundred percent I won’t. I’m in a fucking bad mood. With Sera gone and the apartment empty, I’m in hell, and in no state to celebrate with the boys.

“Maybe?” Justin asks. “What kind of answer is that? Come out with us. It’ll take your mind off everything. Let’s toast to tomorrow’s opening.”

“It’s bad luck,” I tell him, clapping him on the back. Bad luck is the last thing I need. “I’ll see you later. Have fun.”

Ihead to my car, glancing at my watch. Finally, I have the time, nerve, and mental capacity to make the long drive to Gran’s storage unit. I take my BMW in case it rains. She had the storage unit for a long time. Gran could never throw anything away. Vance had urged me to visit-not that he needed to, I wanted to see what was in there. If there’s space, I’ll store the valuable stuff from her apartment there until I have a chance to go through everything. If there’s not, I’ll see if I can get rid of anything.

The unit is bigger than I thought it would be. I open it, immediately coughing as the door kicks up dust. The first thing I notice is the furniture. It’s not antique stuff that matches what’s in her apartment. This is old, but in a different way. With a heavy but smiling heart, I recognize the stuff from our old place, the place where she raised me. All the furniture that used to be in my room: my old bed, dresser, desk, everything-it’s all here. There are boxes of photos and toys from when I was a kid, and I take the time to go through them all.

I hadn’t realized she’d kepteverything. In one box I find my baby pictures, which I haven’t seen in years. There’s not a single photo of my parents, and I’m glad. Love you, Gran. Hey, look at that, I was a cute kid. One day, maybe I’ll be a dad too. I’ll do a fucking hell of a job. Not now, of course. Maybe in several years. Now is not the time. I picture a baby with Sera’s deep chocolate-brown eyes and have to put the picture back before I punch myself in the face.

Picking my way through the rest of the items and boxes, way in the back I see something that makes me pause. The elegant wooden frame of a brand-new king-sized bed is propped against the back wall, its mattress still wrapped in protective plastic with a rose envelope with my name taped to it.

I take the envelope off and open it. There’s a folded piece of paper inside.

My Colton,

Consider this bed a wedding present.

Love you,

Gran

I start to laugh. I can’t help it.

“You sneaky, sneaky woman,” I say, staring at the ceiling of the storage unit.

I bet she’s looking down at me with that smug smile on her face. There’s a smaller red envelope with Sera’s name handwritten across the front. Shaking my head, I tuck the envelope into my pocket.

She knew. She absolutely knew that if Sera and I were forced to spend time together, we would fall for each other. Man, she played the long game. She played it well. Gran always did have the patience of a saint. I leave the unit, my mind made up.

Back in my car, I call Sera. I want to tell her what I found. She loved Gran and will be happy to know. It goes straight to voicemail.

My first thought is to show up at her place, but I have no idea where that is. It wouldn’t be difficult to find out her home address from Vance, but I’d prefer not to become a grade-A stalker. Sera would have my dick on the chopping block if I just left Gran’s note in her mailbox, let alone barged into her apartment unannounced.

Driving to The Diner doesn’t seem like the better alternative at this point. So, I call.

“Oh hi, Cal!” Sera’s friend Kelly answers. “How can I help you?” she asks after a short exchange in which she enquires about Justin and I tell her he’s fine.

“I need to talk to Sera.”

“She isn’t here.”

My heart drops, and concern starts to seep in. “What do you mean she’s not there?”

“She and Marie left for the lawyer’s office to sign papers. They won’t be back in today, I’m afraid. Is everything okay?” she asks, sensing my agitation.

“Yes. Thanks, Kelly.”

Well, shit.

With no other options, I drive home. When I get to the garage, I dial her number one last time. I know I won’t change her mind, but I have to get something off my chest. Something I didn’t realize when we saw each other last, and that I’ve been mulling over all week. I step out of the car and wait for her recorded greeting to finish.

Knowing that my scheming grandmother saw Sera and me as husband and wife gives me the resolve-and strength-to say what I need to say.

I need to get it out, now.

“Hey, Sera, it’s me,” I say, making my way to the elevator. “I’ve been trying to reach you. Called the diner to let you know I have a note from Gran. I found it in her storage room, with your name on it. But the main reason I’m calling is because I know I fucked up. I don’t like how we left things last Sunday. There’s so much we have to say.”

I pause. Focus, idiot.

“Okay, so muchIhave to say. The thing is, this is all new for me. I love you, Sera. I fucking love you. Madly. Irrevocably.”

I pause again. I shouldn’t be telling her this over the fucking phone, but I need to get it out.

“You’re my woman, babe,” I continue. “You get me. You always have. You were right about why we butted heads when we were younger. I was a dumb kid with fucked-up parents, and you saw me better than I saw myself. I’m sorry I gave you so much shit about living in the past. I had no right to do so. I will spend my time making up for the harm I did to you. I promise. I don’t deserve a chance, but please listen.” I sigh. “Baby, I don’t want this to be over between us. I don’t want a fucking divorce, and I don’t want to fucking stop seeing each other. I get it. I really do. I get that you need to live your own life…”

The entire time I’m talking, I’m riding the elevator upstairs. When I get to my front door, the words are flowing faster than I can process them. I fumble with the keys, trying to get them in the lock, talking on the phone, “…and that your heart is in The Diner. Okay, fuck it, I’m not going to pretend that I agree with it, but I love you, and I promise to let you make your own decisions-and support you no matter what, please know that. No matter what. I will never stop loving you…”

Stop talking. You fucked this up.

Stop creeping her out.

The flowers were too much.

This is too much.

I hang up.

Fuck.

Fuck.

Of course she’s not going to be texting or answering my calls. Why would she? She’s made her decision. She has her own life to live. We’re not together anymore.

Well, I guess we were never really “together.”

I unlock the door. For one month, I entered the apartment, looking forward to seeing Sera. Now I enter emptiness.