Present 15 ♡ One In A Million Miracle

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With no one in my immediate work vicinity the wiser as to Miguel's whereabouts, that left me with one chance and one chance only.

And that was to call his sister, Charlie.

I remembered that double date brunch we had, where Charlie officially hired me to design and make her wedding dress. We'd exchanged phone numbers for the first time in our lives then, which had been kinda weird considering we were the same age and went to the same high school. But it had felt momentous, like I was joining an exclusive circle I'd only ever been peripheral to. And then I'd gone and blown it in a fit of anger.

I was probably persona non grata to her now, but if I could get Miss Porcupine to understand that I was aware and absolutely regretful of having let the man of my dreams walk out of my life like the dumbfuck I was, maybe she could help me find him. And then it'd be up to me and my ability to grovel.

That was something I'd never really exercised. Maybe it was a result of my privileged upbringing, I either expected things to go smoothly or to have to work for them. It was hard to conceive of occasions where neither could happen, but I'd never wanted something as much as to resort to begging.

And I was willing to beg Miguel for forgiveness, for another chance, because what I felt for him deserved that and more. It deserved a leap of faith on him, for me to stop doubting that this was right and trust that his feelings ran just as deep as mine.

My hands were clammy as I dialed Charlie's number. I was sitting in my car in Tropicana's parking lot and my head swam with Angela's parting words. It was as if she fully expected that Miguel's vacation was going to be unforeseeably long. As the phone rang, I wondered how much I could charge on my credit card. If Miguel was still somewhere in the continent I could probably afford to visit him, if not...

"What?" Charlie answered as soon as she picked up, and I stammered upon nonsensical syllables like the smart, sophisticated and confident woman I was.

"Um, hi," I finally said.

She sighed.

"Look," she started, with a snap in her voice that told me she definitely knew what was going on. "I gave you the courtesy of picking up because I'm coincidentally on break from my shift for a few minutes and I thought, what the hell, let's hear what the girl who broke my brother's heart has to say. But really, when it boils down to it I can just hang up any second."

"No! Please," I begged, already warming up to the task. "I just need to know where he is so that I can go tell him what an absolute, stinking moron I am."

"You don't need to go through all that trouble, I've already told him plenty of times," she said. At the same time she probably heard shattering glass, which was the sound my heart was making.

I hung my head until it rested on the steering wheel.

"Charlie," I started, but I didn't even know how to argue back. I swallowed thick a couple of times before continuing, "It doesn't matter what I could tell you, if I were you I'd never stop thinking that I don't deserve a second chance but-"

Charlie cut in with, "You're damn right."

"But," I said. "I have to try. I just need... that's all I want."

I didn't mean to cry, but I couldn't help myself. Since the dawn of time, my father had always shown irritation at the fact that someone with his bloodline could be such a crybaby. But that was exactly what I was, even though I was big and tall and had a mean right hook. My heart was so small and tender that it easily got overwhelmed by my emotions and there were many of them coursing through me right at that moment. Anger at Mr. Diapers but mostly at myself. Shame. Regret.

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