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Javier raised an eyebrow. “I’m not saying to break it up. I’m saying to be honest with the man. He deserves to know the truth, regardless if he picks you or not.” A smile built on his face. “Although I will say he would be a fool not to choose you.”
“You haven’t seen his fiancé.”
“Beauty is only skin deep.”
Chantelle licked her lips, but it did nothing for her dry mouth. Could she tell Lance how she felt with it so close to the wedding? Time was running out, so she needed to decide—fast.
Javier called for the check, and he escorted her home. Chantelle unclicked her seatbelt, and he walked her to the front door. She reached inside her purse for her key.
Javier took her free hand. “I hope you make the right choice.”
“Me too.”
He inched closer. “Stop me if you want to, but I’ve dreamed of this moment since the first time I saw you.”
She smiled. “I think I owe you one since you’ve been nothing but amazing.”
“I just want you to be happy.” He stroked her cheek. “I’ll miss you when you leave.”
“I hope you find a woman that loves you for you.”
His eyes gleamed. “She’ll have a tough act to follow compared to you.”
Chantelle didn’t pull away this time. Javier didn’t rush her, but when he pressed his lips to hers, she smiled against his lips. She kissed him back, knowing it would be their first and last. When she drew back, his mouth fell open.
“Wow.” He released a deep breath.
Chantelle giggled. “Goodnight, Javier.”
“Goodnight, beautiful.”
Chantelle unlocked the front door and waved to him before closing it. Leaning against the closed door, she heard Javier’s car start, and the humming engine fade as he drove away.
***
Chantelle dressed for a run the following morning. She would usually stick to her simple treadmill walks, but today she went full throttle and jogged. She’d tossed and turned the night before. Nightmares of crashing Lance’s wedding flooded her mind.
Dreams of running down the aisle and objecting during the rehearsal dinner. Chantelle had woken up in a cold sweat. She had patted her damp chest, only to get up and shower.
She thought the shower would relax her, but it only made her adrenaline pump harder. So, she grabbed her athletic gear and ran. Her arms pumped harder as she dashed down the streets. Her mother didn’t live that far from the downtown area, but Chantelle took another road leading to the bare country roads.
Her Bluetooth played Toni Braxton’s “Trippin’.” The lyrics only made Lance’s face more apparent. She focused her eyes ahead on the road. Her skin stung under the building heat as the sun rose. Aside from the music in her ears, all the other sounds were lost in the whistle of air humming by like the flight of a million arrows. Slowing her pace, she jogged in place. Looking down the road, she wiped the sweat from her forehead.
Lance. Like a mirage, she envisioned him standing there. Returning to her run, she sprinted to him. Deep down, she knew he wasn’t there, but for once in her life, she ignored everything around her. At that moment, no one told her she couldn’t be with him.
Chantelle pictured his smile and him running to her. She didn’t realize she was crying until she tasted tears on her lips. Shutting her eyes for a few seconds, she slowed down once more. This was ridiculous. Lance wasn’t there. He wasn’t coming.
Changing direction, she headed home. As soon as she arrived, she would finish her article. She wouldn’t stay for the wedding. Brenda would have to accept her story the way it was. She would tell the truth. No exploitation. She wouldn’t do that to Lance, no matter if it made or broke her career.
Sweat dripped from her skin when she returned to her mother’s house. She gulped down a bottle of water, tossed her cell on the bed, and stepped into the shower. The water relaxed her muscles once again, and she was ready to sit down to her laptop. She picked her title, “An Unexpected Love.”
She could tell Lance how she felt, but at what cost? Perhaps the moment they shared at the dance studio was a mistake. Chantelle sighed, recalling how he held her on the dance floor. Her back tingled with the touch of his fingers.
Her body froze in her rolling chair, and she felt rooted in her spot. Her chin trembled. Her stiff fingers on the keyboard. Chantelle stared at her screen, but didn’t see the words. Her vision blurred.
She remembered Javier’s words. Would she forgive herself for leaving without telling Lance the truth? Could she go through that again? Not knowing what could have been.
No. Enough hearts had been broken. His and hers. Not to mention a devastating loss.
