AllFreeNovel
Share Us
If me and Millie end up together, then I truly will have it all. The career of my dreams, the job that I have always wanted in the city that I love, the weather and heat that I adore, and the woman I love as well. That would be incredible, wouldn’t it? I don’t know if I can get any luckier than I already am, I probably shouldn’t ask for more, but if I could get her… well, my life would be complete. I would have it all. I can just see my future with Millie in it now and it honestly looks amazing. It’s a goal that I would love nothing more than to attain.
Hey, I have always achieved my goals before, so why not now? What’s stopping me from trying?Chapter 4 – Millie“God, he’s beautiful,” I mutter to myself over my morning cup of coffee. “He is a freaking God.”
I have a secret guilty pleasure that I would never confess to anyone, least of all Lance because it’s totally embarrassing, but I love watching the movies that he has been in. ever since I first learned who he was, I headed out to get the DVD’s so I could watch him and see what kind of actor he was. I didn’t expect to love his films so much and I certainly didn’t expect to spend half of my life watching him on my TV screen. Yet here I am, doing just like, acting like a fan girl who can’t get enough of the big Hollywood star.
The man who’s on my screen doesn’t feel directly connected to the man I know in the bar. He’s a good enough actor for me to fall for who he is in his movies, which makes me feel les awkward about watching him… but I still know that it would be super weird if Lance found out that I do this.
“He would tease me forever,” I declare to myself as I chew on my oat meal. “I would never hear the end of this. He already assumes that I’m in love with him and this would just confirm it…”
God, am I in love with him? A year and a half is plenty of time to fall in love with someone, even if it’s just a friend who I hang out with most days for a while, but I don’t know if it can be love when we haven’t even kissed yet. Perhaps what I’m experiencing is some kind of friendship love instead…
Then again, I don’t exactly have the best experience with love, do I? I don’t have the best track record of falling for the right guys which is why I’m here in the first place. I can’t exactly trust my own judgements when it comes to guys so this whole thing with Lance is probably nothing at all. I mean, he’s my only friend here in LA, I haven’t gotten to know anyone else, which I’m sure intensifies everything. It doesn’t help that he asks me out on a date all the time. He probably has me all twisted up in knots, that’s all. It wouldn’t be the first time.
I shove my mug and bowl on to my coffee table as a wave of uncomfortable dizzying heat over comes me. I grow distracted from the movie playing out on my TV as I grab the nearest pillow to me which I hold tightly to my chest like a protective shield. Although I know all too well that this material will never protect.
Dante Booth. The first man who tied me up and knots and got me all confused. The first man I thought that I might be in love with until it became strikingly clear to me that love shouldn’t feel that way. The first man who I called my boyfriend, and as I ran away to LA, I told myself that he would be the last man as well for so many reasons. I can’t forget what he did to me, I can’t put that behind me and start again. Things like that don’t happen.
Dante was charming when I first met him, like a prince charming. For an eighteen-year-old who hadn’t ever been noticed by a guy before, this attention from a gentleman was overwhelming. I could hardly contain myself. With gifts and compliments, lovely dates and passion, I was head over heels in an instant. I thought that I had found the man that I was going to spend the rest of my life with, and I couldn’t wait for that.
On my nineteenth birthday, eight months after we began dating, Dante proposed to me and asked me to move in with him. My father who raised me alone didn’t want me to. He advised me against it so many times, and rightly so, but I wouldn’t hear it. I was a stubborn teenager who assumed that I knew best. So, I agreed. And that’s when he changed. The compliments became thinly veiled insults designed to shake my self-confidence, the gifts and dates dried up and instead became arguments about how I was spending too much time with other people. I ended up cutting everyone else off a lot, including my father, just to save the hassle. The passion became something colder and more mechanical as well, which I blamed myself for. I wasn’t desirable anymore, was I? The older I got, the more I let myself go, and by the time I was twenty years old, I was a mess. A state. He was disgusted by me and I couldn’t blame him because I saw only horror when I looked in the mirror as well.
