Chapter 35.


    Maverick didn''te back to the vi that night neither did he answer his phone calls.


    I wait up for him, thinking he''lle inte and was working things out with his mom but give up when


    the time strikes Two in the midnight.


    Maybe it''s just a figment of my imagination, maybe it''s real but I feel someone ce a soft kiss on my


    lips when I fall asleep but was too tired from crying to open my eyes.


    I jolt up from the bed the next morning, thinking yesterday was a nightmare, and reality dawns on me


    when I look at the space beside me on the bed and find it empty. Even the room feels empty.


    His traveler''s bag that was once resting at one side of the room is no longer there and neither is any of


    his other properties.


    He left already.


    Knowing he''s probably on his flight back to Minneapolis, I rush out of bed to get ready to leave for the


    airport. We''ll sort things out when I get home, I know we will.


    I leave the house keys to the caretaker of the vi. A cap is worn on my head to prevent her from


    seeing my blood-red eye as I g down a cab to the airport.


    The flight was lonely and sad. I have no idea what''s going to happen when I get back to the penthouse


    but whatever it is, I''m not ready for it. What he''s going to say, how I''m going to react, I''m scared of it.


    I should''ve known something like this was bound to happen. It''s like I''m forbidden to be happy for a


    long period of time.


    Maverick still doesn''t pick up his calls when I get to Minneapolis and keeps going straight to voicemail.


    The situation is worsened as I find out he didn''te to the penthouse either. His room shows no sign


    of him plus everywhere is looking dark and deserted, just like my soul at the moment.


    A headache slices through my skull and I feel dizzy for a second, concluding a shower would do me


    good right now.


    It doesn''t.


    Two sleepless nightster, there''s still no sign of him and it''s already beginning to get to my head. The


    first person I would''ve run to is Jim but he needs a break from me, a break from my drama. I would not


    be a part of his responsibility anymore and I need to handle my own mess on my own this time.


    My phone rings in the middle of the night on one of my sleepless nights and I dive for my phone,


    hoping it''s from one person but I''m disappointed when I see Jim appear on the caller ID.


    "You didn''t tell me you''re back from France, your location shows you''re in town. How was it? Did you


    have fun?"


    "A lot of fun. You should go there sometime," I try to sound as lively as possible so he won''t suspect a


    thing. The call goes on a bit longer when he begins to tell me about a client at work. He throws in jokes


    into the story at some point and I have to force myself tough even if all I want to do right now is far


    fromughing.


    You know when sadness hits you and it sort of fills your chest? You can breathe but it''s sort of shaky


    and maybe your vision goes a little blurry from tears that are threatening to fall— but you aren''t just


    letting them? It''s a strong and heavy feeling, something that I can''t really exin.


    The next morning, I fall back into the old style of letting my sadness out. Kickboxing.


    I start out slowly at first but when Maverick''s face keeps shing pictures in my head, his smile, the first


    day I came to the penthouse, the day I finally spoke to him on the staircase, when he agreed to help


    me with my stupid n... the moment I figured I was falling for him, when we first made love in his


    bedroom, and down to the scene at that restaurant in France— my sadness hits a whole new level as I


    This belongs to N?velDrama.Org - ?.


    punch the leather bag like my life depends on it, I punch it till my knuckles turn red and bleed.


    Nothing I do right now could change what happened in the past. What''s done is done and it hurts so


    bad I can''t go back in time to change my mistakes.


    It breaks my heart more every time I call his phone and hear. "Hey, it''s Maverick. Leave a message


    after the beep." I call him every night when I know he''s not going to pick up, just to keep hearing his


    voice.


    Fridayes before I make up my mind on my final decision. I cried about it in the night and now that


    I''m standing in the living room with my luggage in one hand, tears still stream down my face.


    I take a paper note and a pen from my bag, setting the paper t on the counter and writing down a


    note:


    I''m sorry I''m not the person you thought I was. I''m sorry I disappointed you too damn much, for nearly


    everything. I''m sorry for hurting you. For trying to make things work and always fucking it up in the end.


    I''m sorry... it''s just sometimes, I feel like I was born to hurt the people I love, the people I want to love. I


    guess the world made me this giant asshole without knowing it.


    I thought I could change. I thought I actually had a shot at love, a shot at making you happy. I don''t


    know anything anymore but I know there has to be more to this. More to me. More to you. I just wish


    things were different. I wish I could wake up, do what I have to do, and somewhere in between get a


    text message from you saying how much you need me. How much you miss me, and love me.


    I wish things were easier. But they''re not. I am my own self-destruction. And I just need someone to


    love me. To not give up on me. To tell me I can still be good.


    I wipe thest of my tears and pin the note on the refrigerator, stepping back to look at the house I''ve


    had good memories in. I should thank him for that, for giving me a break of my own sad life and a


    better view of life.


    I punch a number on my phone and bring it to my ears, taking a deep breath as the other line rings and


    picks.


    "Dad, I''ming home."