Past Lovers. 9

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So glad everyone was happy to see I updated...well I'm back for good! Yay! Please do me a favor and check out my new story "Barefoot"

If you liked Childhood Lovers, then you'll love it! And I could really use the love and support on it! It is always so hard at first to start a new story. Please please please, read it for me. That's honestly all I'm asking for. I'm not writing this story for myself, I'm writing it for you guys. Barefoot is the story that I want to write, but I really need support. 

Well on with the next chapter (: much love xoxo leave your love. Remember if you have an idea for what should happen next, TELL ME.

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Chase's POV

"Chase?" 

I could recognize that voice anywhere. I heard the tremble in her voice, something was wrong. My heart sunk in my stomach.

"Hayden?" My voice cracked in concern. "What's wrong? What happened?" 

There was a brief pause. The silence killed me. 

All of a sudden, I heard sobbing. Words were coming out, inaudible words, but I couldn't understand her.

"Hayden...please, calm down. Talk to me, what's wrong," I asked, in a low voice.

Hearing her like this made my heart hurt. But a part of me was happy to know that she called me, to console her, to help her.

"Hayden, where are you? I'll come get you," I told her, trying to calm her down. "Please, just calm down for a moment and tell me where you are. I want to help."

After multiple tries, I was able to write down her address. I threw on my coat, and bolted out the door. She lived about fifteen blocks away. I should have hailed a taxi, but I didn't. I just kept running. I could run miles and miles for her.

I found her sobbing on the stairs in front of her apartment building. I was out of breath, but I didn't even take a moment to pause.

"Hayden, what's wrong..." I asked, sitting down beside her.

I wanted to slip my arm around her so badly. Just to hold her, and comfort her. But I knew I couldnt. I sat with her for a few moments and let her calm down a bit. It appeared my company soothed her.

"Jared..." she whispered, with tears in her eyes. "Cheated on me."

My mouth dropped, and I was overwhelmed with guilt. Guilt because three long years ago, I had done this to her. I couldn't even imagine the pain she was in. To be cheated on twice...

"Hayden...I'm so sorry," was all I could say.

I sat there in shock, while she cried even more. 

What scum, I thought to myself. What fucking scum. Then I realized, I couldn't really say that. I was scum too. The anger built inside of me. The anger towards him and the anger towards myself.

"Where is he?" I growled, standing up and rolling my hand into a fist. "Where the fuck is this bastard? I'll punch him in the face. I'll make him regret he ever hurt you."

Hayden stopped crying and held her breath. She stood up, and faced me.

"No, Chase, don't," she murmured. "Please don't. Just take me home. I want to go home with you." 

How could I resist an order like that? I grabbed her bags and quickly hailed a cab. There was no way I was making her walk.

We crawled into the back seat of the cab. Hayden was able to contain her sobs, but still let hot tears stream down her face. She stared out the window, watched the city lights go by. At one point, she reached for my hand, held onto it for a moment, gave it a squeeze, and let go. 

Even with a flushed, moist face, Hayden was still the most beautiful woman I had ever seen. This maybe was my chance, given to me by some higher power. Still, it was wrong to let her go through such miserable suffering. 

She didn't deserve this. Not from me, and certainly not from him. How could she ever trust a man again? After all of this? 

I was afraid she was going to be broken beyond repair. I was going to fix her. Even if she never gave me a second chance, I was going to fix her so she could be happy. Because when you love someone, all you want to do is see them happy. 

When we arrived at my flat, Hayden had stopped crying completely. There was an occasional sniffle, but I guess she was all cried out.

I unlocked the door for her and let her in. 

"Sorry for the mess," I muttered, embarrassed by my sloppiness. 

She threw her coat down, and sat down on the couch. "It's okay, I don't mind."

She sounded exhausted, and quite frankly, just straight up depressed.

"Can I get you something to drink? Maybe a glass of water?" I offered, heading into the kitchen.

"Got anything to drink? Wine perhaps?" 

I paused, and almost chuckled to myself. The girl liked to drink. I loved that about her, she always wanted to have a good time. But not now.

"Hayden, I don't think that's a good idea," I answered, walking out to face her and thinking of my own alcohol abuse. 

Her eyes glistened under the light, and her lips were pursed. "Please? I just want something to settle my nerves." 

I was relunctant to agree, but I did. I wanted to give her everything she wanted. I went back into the kitchen and poured her a glass of scotch.

"Sorry, this is all I've got," I said, handing her the glass. "I hope you don't mind." 

Her mascara covered eyes lit up, as she took a big gulp. "So good," she murmured, cracking the first smile of the night.

"I'm really sorry, Hayden, you didn't deserve that," I whispered, just overcome with sadness for her.

She waved her hand in the air. "It's okay..." she looked down into her glass. "It was probably for the better."

That night we talked. We talked and laughed about the memories we shared. Our years growing up together, the summers we spent, the crazy dinner parties we attended. But I could feel her pushing back, and putting a guard up. I didn't blame her though, she had every right to be scared. But I wouldn't give up, I had all the time in the world for this woman.

We watched a movie together, Sleepless in Seattle, one of her favorites. She ended up falling asleep drunk on my chest. I was surprised she even let me touch her. I could have stayed up all night, watching her chest, rise and fall. I stroked her long hair, and looked at her with longing, loving eyes.

But I wanted her to sleep well. So I carried her off to my bed. I took off her shoes, and tucked her in. I grabbed a pillow for myself, and brought it to the couch. It didn't feel right to sleep in the same bed as her.

I didn't sleep though. I couldn't. So for the first time, I sat down at my typewriter. Yes, the old, dusty typewriter. 

And I began to write again.

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