The Carrero Heart - Beginning (Friends to Lovers)

Chapter 221

Arrick’s POV Copyright by Nôv/elDrama.Org.

~ Seeing Sophie again. (Restaurant) ~

I push the money in the driver’s hand as I follow Charlie and Tom out of the cab onto the sidewalk. I’m still tired from my three hours in the training ring and starving, it’s my turn to pay for lunch and I got to pick the venue. This place is new and no chance of Natasha hitting it with her colleagues on her lunch break either. I’ve been trying to put distance between us since the breakup, trying to stay out of her way and I hate that she has a knack for showing up wherever I am. It feels like she just won’t let go, and although I understand her pain at our breakup, it’s also stifling, and I just want her to move on. She won’t do that if she keeps trying to cling to me.

“Hurry up, man.” Tom, my sparring partner today is impatient as hell and throwing me a look that is supposed to hurry me up. I straighten on the street and glare him down. Back on form lately and I will put him on his ass again if he keeps this up, I’m not one to deal with attitude lately. I shove him in the shoulder towards the restaurant door and catch Charlie laughing at us. He’s my trainer and at six feet seven, built like a giant brick shit house, I am not too keen on any reprimanding from him in public. He’s one of the few guys who can match me in a ring, and he isn’t against trying hard to punch me out. I’m lucky I have speed and agility on my side.

“That was a good session, Arry. Keep it up and a championship will be yours my boy.” Charlie pats me on the back as we enter the building and the young female Maître D rushes towards us with menu’s, grinning wildly. Tom scoots forward to deal with her, seeing a possible fuck buddy, as I turn to my main man. I spend so much time with him lately that we should be sick of seeing each other.

“I figured that focusing all my energy into beating the shit out of people, was better than letting myself drown in self-pity.” I smile at him coolly; he knows how I have been these past weeks and he nods with a fatherly smile. He has seen me at my worst, especially right after finding out Sophie had a boyfriend

and pulled me out of the alcohol binge state I went into. He focused me back on fighting and saved me from myself.

Not exactly doing much better nowadays, still broken and living like an empty shell, but at least I have a focus and a release for all the shit going off inside of me. He’s twenty years older than me, but the guy has a seriously mean body and a demeanor that screams ‘I will fuck you up.’ No one knows how much of a softie he really is, how much I respect him and how lately, he has become an ear for all my problems. My Sophie stand in of sorts.

The small brunette is pointing into the back of the busy room at tables up near the back and Tom leads the way. We follow closely, stomachs rumbling, completely starving from an excessively energetic session and I feel good about how I’m doing with my training lately. Focused everything on just doing that and nothing else. Taking a time out from Carrero Corp, taking time out of my own head, and expelling all the shit that keeps messing me up, physically. I’m doing well, honing techniques and feeling positive about a fight I have lined up.

“Is my princess ready to go?”

“I am.” The familiar sweet voice hits me like a sucker punch as we walk down the center walkway of the room and I stumble. I would recognize her voice anywhere, and it’s like being hit with a thousand spiky pins all at once, over every single part of my body. It’s been haunting me for weeks, she’s never out of my head, or my dreams, always there in the shadows of my mind, every second.

That laugh, her cute giggle, carefree and pure, and I am rendered completely incapable for a moment, turning impulsively to see the familiar small blonde head, with her back to me, leaving a table with a blonde stocky guy, that is a shit sight to see. My breath catches in my throat and I literally can’t move, immobile with a mix of pain, and longing to see her.

My Sophs.

I know who he is. Seen him with her from afar. The guy who replaced me, who swooped in and caught her when I let her go. My careless abandonment of the most precious thing I ever had. She doesn’t know how many times I stood outside her apartment and lost the courage to just go in and see her. How many times I caught sight of her coming out and left, afraid, ashamed. Unable to just tell her how much of a mistake I made. How I feel about her. Usually he is right along with her, shadowing her, holding her hand and has been the deterrent in my approaching her for weeks. My stomach twists in my gut and the words are out almost impulsively, because I’m caught off guard.

“Sophie?” I sound pathetic, unsure and I’m aware I’m standing still, in the middle of the aisle while my mates shake their head at me and wander off. Charlie throws me that look...’Good luck’ smirk. He knows who she is, he’s met her many a time on social occasions, he knows she’s the reason my life fell to shit. Is still falling to shit.

Sophie pauses for a second, I see her tense and I can’t stop the way my eyes devour every little piece of her. Her small compact body, dressed in a pale printed floral dress that’s cute, a woolen cardigan and flat sparkly shoes. She looks like Sophie of old like this, and it crushes what’s left of my soul. Her hair back to blonde, past her shoulder now and looking every bit like the girl I dream about every night. I can’t breathe. Body rigid, tensed and waiting to see that face turn to me while holding everything in. This is agony in its truest definition.

The blonde guy with her, the guy I saw her with at her building, the guy Jake told me is the man she’s serious about. He has her hand in his as they turn together, and I have to hold onto every part of my self-control to not rip them apart and shove him halfway across the room. I hate that he’s touching her, that he gets to be with her, be close to her, make her laugh and listen to her problems. I hate that he’s with her at all. It’s a mix of pain and anger, jealousy, and regret, and it sucks like hell.

“Hi.” She says softly, surprise in her face; so perfect, a voice that can both wound me to the core and yet fill a part of me at the same time. Those blue eyes that have been missing in my life, burn my heart

with just one contact and I have to swallow hard to control how much it hurts. She looks like everything I miss. No girl has ever compared to her, how beautiful she is, how she makes me feel.

I was a fool to ever lose her and I deserve this bull shit right here. I deserve to feel this way. I deserve for this to hurt like crazy when I look at the innocence of her face, the fear in the depths of those mesmerizing eyes. I put it there and I have no right to her anymore. I added scars to a heart I was supposed to heal and lost the rights to be part of her world.

I never deserved you, baby.

She smiles past me, I guess at Charlie as he moves to our table, recognizing him, and long for her to look back at me, to bask in her smile for just a second, to remember what it feels like to connect with her in anyway. To have her undivided attention again. I can almost taste how badly I want that.

God, I miss her so much, this is excruciating.

I thought I felt pain these past weeks, missing her, seeing her from afar, but this right here. It’s worse than hell. Having her look at me like this; closed up, hidden behind the Sophie self-defense system that is clearly on show, while lover boy slides his arm around her protectively. I want to throat punch him so badly, but I try to not visually react.

Get your fucking hands off her.

“How have you been?” I clear my throat; it’s like trying to dislodge nails and I’m having such a hard time acting normally. I don’t even know why I’m doing this to myself. I guess I just want something to hold onto... a new memory of her, so they never fade. It’s all I have left.

I can’t tear my eyes from her in this moment, I just want to imprint every detail of her to my mind. She’s the light that is missing in my dark life.

“I’m good, just getting on, and you know? … I have school.” She answers cautiously, holding in everything of her that tells me what she’s thinking. Icing me out. I can almost see her trying to avoid looking at me, all the old tells are there. The ones I spent years helping remove. She’s back to guarded, afraid, seeing me as a threat, and it twists the knife harder. She is fidgeting, picking at her nail, and pushing one foot behind the other, so juvenile, so Sophs, and I want to just reach out and pull her to me. To take it all away again and bury my face in her neck and hair. I really did lose her and fuck it all up. I hate seeing her this withdrawn, quiet and distant. She hasn’t been that girl to me for a long time and it brings back a million memories of just exactly what I have lost.

I miss you... so much

“Hi, I’m Christian, Sophie’s told me about you being childhood besties, and I have to say I’m an admirer of your fighting skills, Arrick. I see you had another knockout victory two weeks back, against Tiger Marse.” The blonde guy, Mr. Suave good looking and immaculately dressed. holds his hand out to me, pulling my eyes from her as he leans out. Hand waving in front of me expectantly and I really bite down on the urge to break his fingers and ram them up his own ass. I can barely keep my heart rate under control, my breathing, as this courses through me.

I see her watching me pensively, and give in, trying not to make her hate me anymore than she does. I take his hand and shake, applying more pressure than I should because I really, really, want to hurt him right now. Every part of my body is tense and poised to take the fucker down and beat the shit out of him. Take all this pain I am feeling and expel it on someone worthy... the guy who gets her. Because he’s not me.

“Thanks. Nice to meet you, Christian.” I hesitate at what else to say, trying to play cool, be a gentleman. I know it’s what she will want; when I just want to pick him up by the throat, mess him up and warn him about what I will do to him if he ever hurts her. The way I did.

I’m distracted by Tom calling on me impatiently and turn to throw him a cold glare. A little ‘back the fuck off.’ frown because he needs to leave me alone right now. She’s more important. He frowns back at me unamused, but I ignore him and turn back. I can’t stop myself looking her over again, like a bee to honey. Can’t stop taking in how good she looks, how in her absence she has grown even more beautiful. I didn’t think that was possible. I clench my hands to calm the internal shaking and longing, aching because there is so much more I want to say to her. I want to pull her to me, away from him and hold onto her with everything in me.

I finally get that saying, “regret is a killer”, because this bites like a mother fucker.

“You look good Sophs. You always were more beautiful as a blonde. I like this on you, the sweet girl look … It’s more you.” It’s out impulsively, this need in me to verbalize how amazing she looks, standing here, watching me quietly. I don’t care if her boyfriend doesn’t like it. I’ll break his nose if he has a problem with it. If I want to tell her she looks beautiful, then I fucking will, and he gets no say.

She always looks beautiful, even at four a.m. drunk and tear stained in a dress I hate and leaning on me to save her. What I would give even to have that part back. I would change everything if I could go back and know what I do now.

“Thanks. You too. I mean... You look good.” She looks away shyly, inhales slowly and I can tell she wants me to go, to leave her alone. Another stabbing pain, another wound at her hands when she doesn’t even mean it. I hope she knows somewhere, deep down, that this isn’t what I wanted with us. That I would move mountains to go back and even have what we had before.

Charlie calls me again and I feel like I might lose my shit with him. I don’t want to go; I want to stay here and remember every piece of her... I don’t know if I will ever see her again, or if I do, when. He has no idea how big a deal this is, to have her finally talk to me, after months of silent hell. How many times I have tried to will her to call me and got nothing. I turn and gesture two minutes, glaring again and see

Tom shove him in the arm, lean in to say something and I hope to god he’s threatening him... I sure as hell will be taking this out on his face soon enough.

I look back and see her shuffling her feet uncomfortably and my heart sinks. She wants to go; I should let her. Stop dragging this out, even if I would have her stand here all day just so I don’t have to not see her again. I’m making this awkward for her, making her upset and that’s the last thing I want.

Her boyfriend is staring at me a little oddly and I wonder if he is trying to figure out what I was to her. I doubt he has a clue. Knowing Sophie, she probably hasn’t told him about the past either, something she tells very few.

“I need to go, Sophs; are you going to Leila’s party?” Still clinging to hope I will see her again. This isn’t enough, it will never be enough. I don’t want a future where I don’t see her. It’s not bearable.

“We sure will be, won’t we sweetheart? Can’t wait to meet Daniel, and of course, Leila. Her parents have told me she’s the family fireball.” The guy squeezes her shoulder and I can’t bear it and look away before I physically hurt him. I should go before I do literally punch him out. I never knew it could feel this way.... seeing her with someone. There are no words to describe this agony or the levels of hatred and aggression coursing through me.

“Guess I’ll see you both there then.” I catch her eye, simmering my anger expertly, trying so hard to save that face in my head. That beautiful angelic face that can haunt my soul for an eternity. She will always be my idea of perfection and beauty. She was made to satisfy every craving in me, in every way.

“Guess you will.” The quick smile doesn’t reach her eyes. She can’t look at me, no matter how much I will her to, beg inside to have my moment with her. To find that connection somewhere between us and know it’s still there. I want it so badly I can taste it, but it isn’t.... she has closed the door.

I took years getting in... and one stupid second of one bad choice, I lost all of it. Severed a limb, now she doesn’t need me anymore. I doubt there’s any love left for me, after what I did to her and that realization breaks the last ounces inside of me that had hope.

I need to let her go. Even if it kills me to do so.

“I better go before they start kicking off and eating the tablecloths.” I turn and motion to Tom that I am coming, I really need a second to get my head straight, without those tropical blues torturing me softly. Pull myself together.

“I suppose, bye, then.” Her soft angelic tone draws me back, winds me with just how much this sucks. Saying goodbye like strangers who are passing by emptily... it was never meant to be this way. I was never meant to lose her.

She’s my girl, my beautiful angelic, sweet, perfect girl. My face aches with the tingles over taking my body, emotion hitting me hard, clenching my teeth so much I may crack a crown, and I know I won’t be able to hold it together for much longer. I will literally rip her out of his arms and wrap myself around her, to keep her close, to never break my hold on her ever again.

I am so in love with you, Sophs.

He pulls her away, like he controls her, and I have to stand my ground and not react. Rage swirling up to demonic levels and that jealous side kicking in full throttle and wanting to rip his jugular out. I want to swing a kick at his face for pulling her that way. No one manhandles her. She isn’t a possession or a fucking puppy; she is the center of the fucking universe and he shouldn’t be hauling her. He should be treating her like a queen, taking care of her like fragile crystal, and giving her the world. Not a tug out of a restaurant.

Sophie deserves the world.

I grit my teeth when he smiles and waves at me, cursing inwardly and clenching every muscle. Willing myself to behave. Sophs looks away and allows him to lead her away. Making me hate him all the more for it.

I hate this... panic rising inside of me, feet itching to follow her... always follow her, like I should have done that night. Countless times. I hate that I never, I regret it with every fiber in my body. I would never make the same mistake again.

One chance Sophie... I would grab it with both hands and hold on to you with everything I have.

She throws back a look that catches me in the eye and the heart in the same second and it’s the last blow. Crushing pain, as the sweetest, most amazing girl I have ever known, ever loved.... walks away in the arms of someone who was lucky enough to catch her. You don’t push the love of your life out so that someone else has to break her fall. If you do, you deserve to lose her to him.

I swear he better make her happy, he better treat her like the princess she is, or I will personally fuck him up. She deserves the world, someone who will look after her in every way. Protect her. Cherish her. Understand her, and what she needs.

I watch them go, unable to tear myself away until long after they leave the restaurant, her face lingering in my head. I can’t bear the pain, yet I cannot physically move until I lose sight of her. It draws every ounce of my energy and saps any chance of a better mood completely out of me. I finally turn and walk to my table emptily, completely deflated, no longer hungry. Unable to think about anything else anymore and this undying urge to go back to the training ring and beat seven shades of shit out of Charlie, because I feel like it.