Our Time Will Come - An After Story

147

Emery

Everyone knows that I hate being surprised, but I hate surprising people twice as much. My heart beats out of my chest as I make my way up to Charlie's room, and it's not because of the many, many stairs. It's because I'm gatecrashing what was supposed to be Charlie's first time away from me since we met. Not only that, I had to practically beg the hotel receptionist to tell me his room number. They wouldn't give it to me at first for obvious reasons, but I got my own way in the end.

Am I sweet? Or just a fucking psycho? I guess we'll never know. I just hope he's glad to see me at this point. Anyway, I'm taking in the hotels dated interior and inhaling deep breaths as I hype myself up to knock on the door, when I'm disturbed by the sound of voices emerging from his room.

"Shit!" I whisper aloud. I try to keep calm and think reasonably, but it proves to be harder than I thought. Who could he possibly have in his room? He mentioned that he made some friends who have also been granted a scholarship, but would he really invite them over this soon? That's so un-Charlie like.

Maybe I should just turn around. My moms waiting in the car for me after all. If he has made new friends, me turning up out of the blue all the way from New York isn't going to look good. I'll look even more like a psycho than I feel. Maybe I should just come back tomorrow, my anxiety taunts me and with that, I turn on my heel and head for the elevator. I'll be damned if I have to tackle those stairs again. until.. I hear the door unlock. "Shit." I scurry around in a sad attempt to find a place to hide. I turn a corner, where hopefully I won't be seen.

"I'll wait here." I tell myself. Maybe his friends are leaving now and I'll get to see him after all, I think wishfully, until -
"I'll see you tomorrow, my baby." a weirdly familiar voice chimes, evidently causing my heart to fall out of my ass. Why is there a female, and why is she calling MY fiancé HER baby. I'll kill her!

"Please tell me I got the wrong room, please." I repeat vigorously in my head. I must have gotten the wrong room. My Charlie wouldn't do such a thing. He loves me and only me. I pathetically try to reassure myself.

My dreams are crushed when I realise it is in fact Charlie that the home wrecking bitch is talking to. "Bye." My fiancé replies bluntly in that raspy voice of his. That's it. I didn't wake up and chose violence today, but maybe he does need a good surprising after all.

I don't recall beginning to cry, but the stream of warm tears coating my cheeks are the reminder. How could he do this to me? After everything. If I wasn't so distraught I'd storm in there and give him hell, but I can barely breathe right now, let alone scream.

Instead, my feet carry me into the elevator, where I use the mirror in an attempt to get my act together. I have to face my mother like this and I don't want her knowing that I've been betrayed by the boy she treats like her own, not yet. It can wait until the morning, when I've mustered the strength to give Charlie a real surprise.. and not a pleasant one.

The ride home is abysmal. I try to convince my mom that Charlie wasn't in his room. I even make up a story about how the receptionist said he had gone out with his new friends. I'm thankful when she doesn't ask too many questions.

Meanwhile, I try to convince myself that I'm overreacting and that there'll be a perfectly good explanation for all of this, but I know what I heard, loud and clear. "I'll see you tomorrow, my baby." the vile witches words reel in my head and not knowing what she looks like, makes it ten times harder. I can't even put a face to the voice, yet I despise her.

It was only last week that Charlie made this grand gesture for me to prove that I'm the only one for him. Of course, he was lying through his teeth. I knew that the rose petals and romantic playlist was too good to be true. It makes me sick to my stomach even thinking about it now.

...

"Why do you look just as miserable now, as you did before you left?" Is how my father decides to greet me after my life has just been ruined. I debate flipping him off, but I decide against it. It probably wasn't a good idea. "He wasn't home." I remain silent when my mom answers for me. With that, I stalk into the bathroom, being sure to slam the door behind me. I just want to be alone and if it means having a crying session on the toilet for the next few hours, then that's what I'll do.