Enchanted (Billionaire Boys Club #2) | ongoing

Chapter 54

                     Donatella:

That was a lot harder than I thought.

But also a lot easier. In the sense that he still wants to be with me. As long as we have that, I think that we can work on us. Get better. Heal.

I don't know how to explain it but I'm sure it'll all work out.

It's fated. I feel it.

When I wake the next day, after getting ready for school and making my way downstairs, there's a box waiting for me.

The maid holding it allows me to open it while still in her arms. When I do, beneath the glittering tissue paper, is a pink bunny. With sparkling grey-blue eyes, like mine I realise. And when my breath catches in my throat as I realise what he's done, I lift its front paw and written in gold cursive...

Donatella.

A few tears prick my eyes but I blink them away. I let myself cry yesterday but not today.

I notice something else in the box then. Hugging the toy to my chest, I retrieve the note and unfold it.

I don't want you to forgive me because of gifts, though this is just one of many, but I wanted you to have it. It feels right that we each give each other one. You gave me mine fifteen years ago, it's about time I gave you yours.

See you soon, Darling.

Right when I said I wouldn't cry. Damn him.

"Would you like me to put it in your room?" The maid asks and I shake my head.

"Could you hold this?" I hand her my bag and hurry up the stairs back to my room, debating where to put her. I decide that my bed will do and so I gently place her down in between my pillows. I nearly struggle to leave it there. But I manage it, returning downstairs and saying goodbye to my mother and leaving.

Speaking of the woman who birthed me, I have still yet to talk to her about what she did with Darius yesterday. They looked like they just had a very long conversation and so we are in need of one, too.

My stomach flutters with butterflies the entire drive to school. Nerves and anticipation and anxiety and hope all concocted together into one big internal mess.

It all stops though, when I see him right there, outside, leaning against his car, talking to Jeremy.

Once I'm out of my own car, it's like the force that connects us together sings and all of a sudden, his sole attention is on me.

I can't move but it doesn't matter. He comes to me.

"Hey." He greets.

"Hi."

"Did you get my present?"

I nod.

"Did you like it?"

"I did. Thank you."

"Don't thank me."

What is it with this man and hating the phrase "thank you"?

"Come on." He holds out his hand. "I'll walk you to class."

"Were you not talking to Jere?"

"I was. Now you're here."

And there go the butterflies again.

The good ones this time.

"Was it not anything important?" I ask as he takes my bag from me, and then my hand.