Enchanted (Billionaire Boys Club #2) | ongoing

Chapter 21

                     Donatella:

Tella.

He called me Tella.

That was his nickname for me when we were younger.  Only his. No one else ever called me that.

When he said it, it felt like the sky had opened. I could feel the hope lighting in my chest but I should have known. Should have known it wasn't what I thought. That I was getting ahead of myself.

And I hate myself for it. I told myself that I would put the past behind me. That I wouldn't let it interfere. But I guess I can't.

And, oh my god.

What was that?

He watched me dance?

For how long?

I didn't even notice him coming in.

And when he came over. Backed me up against the mirrors and brought his face so close to mine like... like he was going to...

And the way my heart was beating out of my chest. I can't kid myself into thinking that was only due to him calling me Tella.

My blood was heated and I wanted it. I may have been semi delirious but I wanted it.

But that can't happen, can it?

I mean, we don't even really know each other now. One thing I definitely know about him is that he's a major playboy. He probably only wanted that much. Nothing more.

And I can't blame him for it because he doesn't remember who I am.

But besides that fact, I couldn't fathom it, anyway. Not with how my feelings are all messed up about him.

The pull was there, no doubts about it. But then there was an emotion I'm not used to having. Anger.

It was fleeting. But it was there.

When I realised that he called me that name without knowing the meaning behind it, it was like a switch flipped inside my brain. Frustration and aggravation overtook me and I had to get out of there. Before I did something stupid, like cry.

He'd get confused and I'd be a blubbering mess and become even more inconsolable when I realised that I can't explain it to him because it'll only complicate things that don't need to be complicated.

We were young. It doesn't matter. It's in the past.

I keep chanting these in my head all the way home. Trying my best to engrave them into my brain so that I'll stop having reactions like this. It can't be healthy.

Once home, anh Hoàng helps me out of the car and I hurry straight to my room, shutting the door and leaning back against it.

I don't think I can face him again today after that.

I don't think my heart can take it.

But then again, I don't think I've ever really said no to anyone before.

I guess this is a good day as any.

I take out my phone and pull up out message thread.

Me
I don't think I'll be able to make it today.

I send the text while my pulse skips a beat and close my eyes when hitting the button.

And then despite my resolutions, I feel bad. So I add:

Me
I'm really sorry.

Something just came up.

And you told me to tell you anytime I couldn't come so that's what I'm doing.