Free Afterthoughts: A Charity McAdams Novella (The Charity McAdams Novellas) by Elizabeth Storme Page A

guess I have everything I ever wanted, and more, but at the end of the day I can be surrounded by people and still feel lonely, like I don’t have any real friends. Everyone is only out there to get something from me.”
    I’m quiet for a moment, not sure what to say to that. A sudden thought pops into my head and I vocalize it without thinking of the implications, “What about Vanessa?”
    He groans, “Cherry, tell me you don’t buy into the tabloid bullshit. I thought if anyone was above that, it would be you.”
    “Hey! Y ou haven’t talked to me in the past three years, remember? The only information I can get on you comes from those sources. I don’t go out of my way to spy on you, but people talk, especially around here, and I can’t put myself in a soundproof box and ignore it all,” I fire back, turning to face him, the prep knife still in my hand, waving in his direction.
    He turns and holds up his hands in surrender. He crosses the room and takes the knife from my hand, laying it on the counter, before gather ing me into his arms. “I’m sorry,” he says, his lips pressed against my forehead. “I’m not with Vanessa or any of those other girls they link me to. At least not the way they portray it, I mean, I have dated some of them-”
    My nose wrinkles at this.
    “-but I’ve never had anything long term or serious with anyone, other than you. I think I tried to fill a hole inside myself with anything I could think of for a while there. Drinks, clubs, girls, whatever. None of it worked though, and I gave up on all of it. I’ve been single for over a year now. Vanessa is still around, we see each other, but we d o not live together and we were never engaged , or even close to that , no matter what the gossip r ags say. Ok?”
    I nod against his chest and then pull back out of his embrace. I really have no idea why a ny of this matters. It doesn’t.
    “Might want to check the turkey,” I say, gesturing back to the stove.
    Brandon looks disappointed but he crosses the small space and turns h is attention back to the stove.
    I resume chopping the fresh veggies and herbs for the sauce, taking my time.
    We finish cooking in silence, for the most part, only speaking to help finish the dinner. I toast up some rolls from the café and put a little butter and garlic on them as Brandon drains the meat and mixes it into the sauce. I set the table and he is right behind me with the serving dishes of pasta and sauce.
    Once everything is set out, we sit down and start to dish out onto our plates. While we were cooking, everything smelled so amazing that my mouth was watering at the thought of eating, but now that it’s all before me I feel sick.
    “Cherr y, is everything alright? ” He asks, before taking his first bite. “Do you want me to leave?”
    “No, I don’t want you to leave,” I answer quietly. “That’s the problem.”
    I expect him to look confused, but when I finally bring myself to meet his eyes, he looks understanding. “I really didn’t come here expecting any of this to happen,” he says. “I didn’t even know if I would see you and then when I did, I don’t know, it’s like something just clicked and I was happy again, for the first time in a long time.”
    I feel tears starting to build and I silently hold my breath, trying to keep them back.
    “I’m still in love with you, Cherry, always have been,”
    I exhale and a tear breaks free of my resolve and trails down my cheek.
    “I know I don’t deserve a second chance, what I did to you is unforgivable. I know you said you’re with someone else now and I know he probably treats you the way you deserve to be treated and that at the end of the day, I have absolutely no right to ask you to take me back after everything,” he pauses and takes my hands in his, holding them tightly. “But I also know there’s still something here, between us, and that I would be a complete idiot to just go back to LA and act like none of this