The Billionaire's Betrayed Love.

45: Intentional Mistakes.

CARL

I woke up to my body feeling like it wasn't mine. My bones were heavy, and I just stayed there, sprawled upon the sheets like I wasn't a living thing. Then the headache set in- the kind that affected even my eyes. Jeez. What the hell happened?

Sitting up, I reached for the curtain and pulled it down with a swift movement, to avoid the wicked sunlight and how it tried to kill my vision. Every single joint of mine ached, and it was my fault, of course. My alcohol tolerance might be the daintiest thing in the world.

A small sigh slipped from my mouth, and I leaned back against the headrest, rubbing my face and eyes with my open palm.

My vision only blurred further, the same as my memory, and when it started to clear out, my mouth hung open. It was as though a fog-like figure hovered over my brain, and then started to minimize. I remember everything on the spot.

My incessant drinking, spam calling Alma, and, worst of all, I remembered her coming to pick me up. That wasn't the worst thing that happened. It wasn't nearly it.

"Fuck. Fuck." I was trying so hard to remember. I looked around and found another bottle of whiskey on the table.

I must have drank that, too. But why? Wait a minute.

It was after Alma left. There, it hit me like a ton of bricks to the head, the reasons why she left in the first place, and the reason I resorted to another bottle of whiskey. It was because I kissed her. As I recalled it, I could still taste her on my tongue.

The room got hot, and I was suddenly sweaty, every nerve ending in me acting up. I kissed Alma, and that was why she left so abruptly, and that led to drinking more. She let me kiss her. The little fragments pulled together in no time, and my memory of last night was solid.

I hopped off the bed and pranced the room, biting on my nails as I relived that moment. I didn't just kiss her. We fucking kissed, and it was mind-blowing! It was the most beautiful thing that had happened to me in a while, and I just had to do it while drunk? Oh please!

I felt like I was a fourteen-year-old rejoicing over his first kiss. Butterflies fluttered in my stomach. It was a sensation that hadn't kicked in in a long, long time. Automatically, the widest grin was sitting on my face, and I just couldn't control it.

We kissed!

Then again, I did it while drunk, and Alma possibly regretted it. That thought shoved me off my high horse, and my joy took a quick dive. While I was internally celebrating, Alma could be beating herself up for having anything to do with me.

And if my phone hadn't rang, we would have gone farther than just kissing. I grabbed my phone on the nightstand, and the first thing that popped was the insane number of misses calls from Linda. My head ached!

I swiped it off and dialed Alma's number, hoping by a strand of hair that she'd pick up, and I could deduct from her tone if she wanted me to apologize for the kiss or not.

On my part, I didn't want to. Why would I want to apologize for the best thing that had happened to me in so long. As I brought the phone closer to my ears, my heart thumped, and with every ring, the anxiety continued to mercilessly gnaw at me.

She didn't pick up, as expected. I tried once more, and it was the same thing. So I texted her instead.

CARL: Hey, about last night

No, it's too direct!

CARL: Good morning, Alma. I-

CARL: Heyy. Can we talk? Tell me when you're

Canceled! None of it felt right, and it just made me even more restless. What happened last night could be the reason I lost Alma forever, and my daughter! I'd rather go mad than have that happen to me.

I wasn't going to wait around to find out. I sent one text after making a decision, informing her that I'd like to see her today if she didn't mind, but I wasn't really asking.

I head to the shower immediately, though I was aware that I could be giving Alma another reason to resent me, but that wouldn't stop me from showing up at her doorstep to plead if I had to.

When Alma or Velma was involved, my dignity and self-pride was a myth.

*

Fear.

She was the only woman who'd ever had me doubt everything about myself like this, including my self-pride, and she was also the first woman to make me contemplate whether or not I wanted to step out of my car even though I was already at the front of her building.

This could be the worst move ever, but I'd find out right. I told myself it was because I needed to apologize when, in reality, I just wanted to see her. I just wanted to set my eyes on them and feel good again- like they were my medicine.

Oh, jeez. I leaned against the steering wheel and scanned the building still. It wasn't like I could see anyone from where I sat, but I still needed a sign to know whether or not to go in. I'd checked my phone, and she hadn't checked or responded to my text. That wasn't a good sign, but I wasn't one to give up either.

I got to my feet and alighted the car, heading into her apartment. I inhaled and exhaled deeply; when I finally reached the door, even my hand wouldn't do what it was supposed to.

Knock. Just knock! I poked the doorbell instead and avoided the peephole as much as I could. The door opened on cue, and Alma propped her head open, yelling, "Did you forget something, Rodney?" as she opened the door.

Rodney?! Ugh.

Her eyes landed on me, and her expression was immaculate. The shock was so apparent on her face, but only for a second; Alma immediately had it under control, as she always does.

"Mama, is it really Rodney?" Velma asked from the living room, and I wanted to say something to her, but Alma looked at me like she'd rip my head off my body if I dared to say a word.

"No, sweetheart. Hold on, I'll be with you in a while," She responded to Velma as she stepped out and closed the door behind her. Now, her full attention was on me, and I didn't know if that was a good thing or not.

Her brow was crooked, asking a question. I didn't let her ask it when I cut in. "I came to apologize..." I blurted.

I didn't know what to do or what not to do. Like I said, I just needed an excuse to see her. "About last night, Alma, it was-"

"A mistake..." She completed tight-lipped, although her completion was far, way from what I intended to say. I was going to say it was another chance for me to realize how much I couldn't let her go, but Alma thought it was a...mistake.

It stung way more than I bargained for and I should have expected. I forgot for a moment how much I hurt her and how long it would take for her to see me in a good light.

"You don't have to apologize," She added, crossing her arms around her chest. "And you sure as hell didn't have to come here either. Did I make a mistake by showing you where I live, Carl?"

The gentleness in her tone was so scary that I almost urged her to yell at me. She seemed way too collected for someone who hated my gut. And I'd rather settle for hate than indifference.

"No, you didn't..."

"Why then do you show up randomly like I've given you permission to do so?" She quizzed again, not a single rise in her tone.

"I'm sorry."

Alma sighed, rubbing her forehead. She was obviously exhausted. Did my presence disgust her that much? My chest fucking hurt, and all I could do was stare at the woman I love from a distance, watching her slip away from my grip.

"You sure have a lot to be sorry for, don't you?" She paused, biting her bottom lips. "Rather than say sorry every time, how about you don't do things you'll be sorry for? Is that...too much of a request?"

"I'm..." My voice trailed off, becoming so low that I could barely hear myself. "Not...sorry about last night, and it wasn't a mistake. Hell, it will never be! Yes, I was drunk and fucking out of my mind but kissing you, Alma?" I let out a breath I didn't know I'd been holding. "That was never a mistake and will never be."

There wasn't a single reaction from her. Was love supposed to hurt this bad? It felt like choking on shards of glass.

I'll...leave. I'm sorry for causing you that much trouble." I reluctantly turned to leave.

"Hey, Carl?" She called out.

Who, me?? Me. I am Carl, right? She called me!

I FROZE.

I freaking froze.

"Did you bring your cooking skills with you? I'm afraid...my daughter could use a chef today."

What!?