Taste (H.S. / A.U.)

Chapter 60

ELOISE DUPONT

The trilling of the rings made my stomach churn with each passing second.

It was ring number three, and I was ready to be taken out back and done Old Yeller style at this point.

"What if he doesn't answer?"

Jade flips her hair, sitting behind the laptop in a separate oversized chair, hidden from the view of the laptop camera. "He will answer. He is the one that called the damn meeting in the first place. And you totally know he did it just to fuck with us, because I told him no to it while on tour, but look at what we are doing. But, just wait, he is gonna' answer, he is just trying to make you sweat it."

She's right, because that's how Chase and his father were. I assume his father would be present since we are negotiating a contract of sorts, with how we want to proceed with Mia's event.

How I would like to proceed is by throwing it in an incinerator and telling her that her food is dry and gross and so is her relationship. But I won't do that, because I'm matured, calm, cool, collected, and I don't care.

I care.

But I will pretend I do not care.

I hear Harry humming lightly from the bathroom, brushing his teeth while the Skype call continues to ring, annoyingly.

After the emotions that outpoured between Harry and I, we couldn't even allow ourselves to concentrate on anything sexual. Instead, we ended up turning into a puddle of cuddles within a cocoon of blankets, watching a new romcom that featured Saoirse Ronan and Archie Madekwe called Under and Over. Despite the steamy scenes that unfolded between the two actors who had great chemistry on screen, Harry and I didn't follow suit, instead we remained affectionate without sex. I rather liked being wrapped up in his arms all night.

Right now, I wish I was back in them, letting the warm light from the window shine over us while we pepper light kisses on each other, hands roaming over his body, tracing against inked skin while he loops his leg in between my own. The light pressure of his knee presses against me, begging for a little friction to turn into more, but knowing that it will lead to too much more, and we didn't need that.

Finally I see the screen start to change, the shifting of the blue screen freezing over and turning to an image of Mia and Chase, seated together on the small loveseat I recognize too much. There they were, in the home I once found so cold and uninviting, except there were some definite changes now made.

The once grey and white wall that housed the mantle, free of all knick-knacks and clutter above the fireplace was full of life. Painted a bright coral color with gold and black framed photos of Mia and Chase. There were small planters with strings of pearls that wrapped around the mantle and down the sides. Seated on the loveseat was Mia, her belly decently rounded with her arms nestled above. She was in a bright red sweater while Chase was in a white polo, together they looked like a picture perfect happy couple.

Even the damn fireplace was warm and lit up, it's not cold enough for a stupid fire.

I didn't like that last night was the best night of my life, emotional, beautiful, and the most unusual thing I've ever experienced and right now all of it vanished when I see Chase. The same brown eyes I once thought meant everything. I thought he was so beautiful, and now I see him and notice the stress lines in his brow, the lack of smile creases, the hardness of his stature. Despite being happier and in love, he still had a coldness to him that I would never get past.

My life up to my divorce was spent living in the shadow of Chase, but here right before me, I see that Mia never had that problem. She was the sun, with her own gravitational pull, and Chase was stuck in it, pulled in and left to linger in her presence. Meanwhile, to him, I was never even in the same atmosphere it seemed.