Page 41 of Flawed

The deep ache inside me hurts more than ever. I hold myself back from getting out of the car, gripping the steering wheel tighter.

She's twenty yards away when one of the grocery bags splits. Produce falls out of the bottom and rolls all over the sidewalk.

Pedestrians continue walking. Not one of them stops to help her. Not thinking, I jump out of my car and race over to her.

She's bending down and grabbing a head of lettuce when I get to her. I take off my jacket, crouch down, and hold it in front of her, instructing, "Put your groceries on this, and I'll carry them inside for you."

She freezes. Her face pales, and she slowly pins her greens on me. Her pink, pouty bottom lip trembles, and she stares at me like I'm a ghost.

My heart breaks and soars all at once. I reach for her cheek, not thinking about what comes pouring out of my mouth. "I've missed you so much, stellina."

8

Chanel

Strangers rush all around us,stepping over my vegetables and fruit. Luca's scent of white musk and patchouli mix with hints of weed. It's so intoxicating, it makes me dizzy. I smelled it before I heard his voice.

My insides quiver and my pulse quickens. A debate pops into my head about if I should run from him, slap him for leaving me and then sending me furniture that reminds me of him anytime I look at it, or throw myself into his arms.

Luca reaches for my face. He tucks a lock of hair behind my ear then cups my cheek.

Tingles plague my body. I stay frozen, not trusting myself to move nor wanting him to remove his hand. All I've thought about is how it felt for him to touch me. It haunts my dreams. Then I wake up and spend too many hours in the day trying to recreate it.

It tortured me.

Hetortured me.

He states, "You're more beautiful than ever, stellina."

Anger floods me. "What are you doing here, Luca?" I snap.

Something passes in his expression. Is it sadness? Confusion? Regret?

Whatever it is, there's no time to figure it out. Someone kicks my butternut squash, and it goes flying down the street.

Luca shouts, "Watch where you're going, dickhead," then he grabs my bag of apples and tosses it on top of his jacket.

"Fuck you," the man calls back.

Luca's face turns dark. He starts to rise then freezes, as if making himself not go after the man. He takes a deep breath then returns to picking my produce off the sidewalk.

I'm so shocked, I just I watch, unsure if this is a real moment, or I'm somehow in a new dream. Luca picks up the grocery bag and the jacket full of food and holds them in one hand. With his free one, he reaches for me. "Let me help you up."

I ignore his gesture. I stand and glare at him. "Thanks for your help. You can give me my groceries and go now."

His face falls, but he doesn't let it stop him. He says, "Don't be silly," then circles his arm around my waist and leads me down the street.

I open my mouth to object, but nothing comes out. Luca's warm body next to mine is a fresh injection of truth. We still fit perfectly together. He makes my head spin with desire, and not just for our physical chemistry. Hope laces through the air that this time, he'll stay. That maybe, in some crazy world where nothing else except us matters, he won't disappear, and we'll be together.

We get to my building, and he demands, "Key?"

"Luca—"

"I just need the key, Chanel," he sternly says.

I should stop all this now. I should take my groceries from him, tell him to never contact me again, and leave him on the doorstep.

But I can't.

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