Then We Were Grown

Chapter THREE

NOW.

LÉO.

Week-ends go by in a blur, Mondays hitting me like a brick. This time it feels different though—it ain't the usual brick of labor out of passion and duty to myself.

Today it hurts more, the ache coils through my fingers and seeps through the cracks of my soul. I cannot stop seeing the flush on Charlie's cheeks. I've waited three long years to see her again, hoping that I'd get a chance to talk to her again, but the moment vanished as quickly as it happened.

I swear I could have seen the same ideas in her head than those that lingered in mine, the wheels turning in her eyes as she looked at me. But the red flush on her cheeks disappeared and coldness remained—linked with pain. Then she left. I can't help the flashing images of her dancing with that man, and when she kissed him... let's just say I looked away. Although I shouldn't have, because the next minute she was gone.

And just as I watched her walk away, my heart was broken and taken back in time when I was seventeen. I'm pissed at her because she didn't pick me then. And I'm pissed at her now because I cannot even bring myself to hate her.

My office is my calm center to this mad world. I see the business of the office behind the glass panes, and the people crowding the street downstairs. But in here it is calm and quiet, and yet I can't bring myself to focus.

I watch my employees picking up their bags and walking up to the break-room for lunch, or walk out the door entirely, until it's just me and the clock sitting on my desk that ticks so loud I can feel each second of time passing right through me.

My phone rings. Gabriel's picture pops on the screen. Dread dawns on me. Right, I agreed to lunch with them all on this fine and sunny day, damning myself to Charlie's presence—the woman who does not want anything to do with me.

"Hey my man," Gabriel's voice echoes through my brain.

"What's up?"

"I'm downstairs. Care to let me in?"

"OK."

Then the bell rings out in the hall, one of the only sounds I can hear through the glass walls of my personal office. I walk out, the bell somewhat blaring around the open space, and press the button on the intercom that sits on the main desk.

Mere seconds later, before I even have the chance to take a breather, Gabriel walks into the office as if he were at home—but stops upon seeing me.

"Rough night?" He perks a brow with a sly grin.

"No?"

"What's with the long face then?"

I frown, and I feel myself purse my lips. Sometimes, just for a fleeting second, I hate him. But Gabriel's grin only fans wide and turns into a full smile as he plonks down in a chair by the door, legs sprawled out before him.

"Are we not going?" I ask.

"We are," he says, "in a minute. I just wanted to check in first."

"What for?"

"Charlie is downstairs with Lily and Ted. I just wanted to make sure you were okay before having you come down."

"I'm good," I lie.

But Gabriel sees right through me.

His perked up brow and tilted head all but say don't you dare lie to me, and I deflate as I slump down in the chair beside his. I run a hand over my face and let out the breath I've been holding since forever.