Chapter Two

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"Yes, yes. I'll marry you!" I answer, happy tears leaking from my eyes, emotions clogging my throat as his bright blue orbs shimmer with tears. A radiant smile curls his lips as he slides the ring on my shaky finger.

He engulfs me in a warm embrace, twirling me around the empty area. "I love you," he says, peppering kisses all over my face as he lowers me to the ground. "I can't believe you said yes!"

Our gazes connect as my body slides down his, my feet landing firmly on the floor. My body vibrates with want but I know we can't give in to our animalistic, ravenous desires. We need to meet his mother โ€“ what a mood killer.

"I've been wanting to propose for months," he whispers, cupping my face. He captures my lips, weaving his fingers through my hair.

Our tongues connect in an agonizing, torturing, passionate motion sending an inferno racing through my body.

He deepens the kiss, sliding his hand down my back, pressing my body closer to his. His fingers digging into the small of back elicits a guttural moan to erupt from deep within as my coochie pleads and throbs with rampant desire.

As much as my body demands we take this further, we can't. "Justin," I say breathlessly once I'm able to abruptly end our kiss. "What about your mom?"

"What about her?"

"Aren't we supposed to meet her? You know she doesn't like to be kept waiting."

"Oh," his melodious chuckle fills the quiet space as he takes a step back. "It was never my intention to have dinner with my mom," he takes another step back out of the glow of the small overhead light and into the darkness. "This was my plan all along."

The light turns off, engulfing me in darkness. "Justin," I say, my eyes trying to adjust. Small flecks of different colored lights โ€“ I have no idea how else to describe it โ€“ dance in my vision.

"I want you all to myself tonight. In our house," he whispers huskily.

"Our house?"

"This house is ours." I hear the stroke of a match before an orange glow illuminates his striking features. He drops the match into what I'm hoping is a fireplace or else we're fucked and the man I thought I knew just proposed to me so he can burn us alive, together.

If I can't have you, no one can. Comes to mind but that would be absurdly psychotic, no?

On the bright side, he dropped the match into a fireplace. There's no reason to think the worst as the room lights up in an orange glow. Just my lunatic mind, ignore me.

A bottle of champagne rests in a bucket of ice on a small wooden table next to pillows and blankets with two champagne flutes and red rose petals.

"You did all this?"

"I'd do anything for you, my love."

And that's all it takes for me to jump in his arms like a rabid animal, smashing my lips against his to satiate the desire spiraling out of control.

In a matter of minutes our clothes are strewn across the floor, my naked back hits the soft blankets as the crackling flames tenderly kiss our flesh with warmth.

"Oh, Justin," I moan as he circles his thumb around my clit, my back arching. His fingers โ€“ "Ahh." โ€“ pumping in and out of me with precision as I explore the hard ridges of his impeccable body.

His teeth clamp down on my erect nipple โ€“ more like lady boner. Aside from when you're cold, your nipples stand to attention when you're aroused. Like a dead giveaway. I dig my nails in his sturdy shoulders, my mouth dropping open as he replaces his fingers with his throbbing cock.

Tantalizing, whimpering moans echo around us in the empty space, ricocheting off the bare walls.

His loving gaze connects with mine augmenting the sensations encapsulating me with each precise pound and thrust, bringing me closer to the brink of insanity.

"I love you," I cry in ecstasy, bucking my hips in perfect rhythm with his.

A coiling pressure builds in my lower abdomen, seeking release, and I can't hold it back anymore with his gaze penetrating mine.

My body shivers and shudders. Shakes and writhes. Stiffens, tenses, and tightens.

And I explode.

My cries of gratification are all I can hear aside from the blood rushing in my ears. I clench and pulsate around him as he thrusts harder, amplifying the orgasm ripping my body to shreds.

Blissful, euphoric minutes pass until my heart rate is back to normal, my fast, ragged breaths have evened out, and some feeling has returned to my jellified legs.

I'd love nothing more than to lie here and fall asleep on his chest but as a lady โ€“ ladies, you know what I'm talking about โ€“ I have to carefully waddle through this house in search of the bathroom because I seriously need to pee โ€“ don't want a UTI โ€“ and clean up.

"Bathroom?"

"I know the drill," he smiles. "Cross your legs."

I do as he says, and he picks me up with ease. I smile at him as he walks with me in his arms.

"You're the best boyfriend a girl could ask for."

"Fiancรฉ," he corrects.

"Right," I giggle. "Fiancรฉ...oh, my God."

"What?"

"I need to, uh, go see my...parents. I don't want to tell them about our engagement over the phone." Lies.

"Let's enjoy tonight, order in, have some champagne and do that again," he grins cheekily, pecking my lips. "I'll drop you off in the morning, make some arrangements and Alfred will take you directly to our private jet."

I try to protest his offer, but he shuts me up in the best of ways with a mind-numbing kiss and that's exactly what we do. We enjoy our night together, getting lost in each other and just being ourselves until the early hours when sleep consumes us.

The next morning goes by in a blur, and I find myself on the road, giving myself the pep talk of the century.

Not really but I've got this.

It's not like I'm driving to my ultimate doom.

Nope.

Not like that at all.

Seems more like I'm trying to convince myself.

I mean, it's only been seven years since I've left Tybee Island and I haven't looked back.

It's not a big deal.

This'll take twenty-four hours tops.

I'll be in and out before anyone โ€“ including my parents โ€“ find out. Before I know it, I'll be back in New York in the arms of the man I love. Better yet, the man I love will be inside of me โ€“ cut it out.

In all seriousness, he's the reason I'm here.

I'm doing this for Justin.

I'm doing this for us.

For our future.

Like, what's the worst that can happen?

The standard ringtone of my Samsung โ€“ yes, I'm into android. Not iPhone. Have your moment and let's move past this, please.

Oh, right. I'm still stuck on this. My bad.

But like, have you ever experienced the judgmental gaze of an iPhone user when you whip out your android?

It's like judgement day.

The utter revulsion on their faces is like nothing I've seen before. I honestly don't give two shits about what people think of me, but damn, an iPhone user. Now, that gets to me. Crawls under my darn skin and irks the living fuck out of me.

Anyhow, I could go for days on end talking about this. No one wants to stick around for that. It'll get boring, believe you me.

"Hello," I answer. Relax, the rental car, courtesy of Justin, has Bluetooth.

"You're engaged!" Rachel's screechy statement blares through the speakers.

"What? How'd you know?" I ask as the sun hits my engagement ring exactly right. Tiny specks of light flit through my rental and I smile lovingly. "I haven't told anyone yet."

"It's all over, Lana. You were spotted kissing outside your apartment this morning. They zoomed in on that ginormous boulder on your finger."

"We were so careful." At least I think we were.

"Not careful enough, clearly. Meet me at Starbucks. You can tell me everything."

"I can't," I sigh as I see the 'Welcome, Tybee Island' sign. "I'm in Georgia," I roll down my window and the salty air whips my curly brown hair all over the place.

"Oh...my God."

"Mmhmm," I hum, reaching for my Ray bans to shield my eyes from the blaring, afternoon sun.

"Does Nadia know?"

"Fuck," I curse, checking my mirrors before I pull over on Highway 80. "I completely forgot to let her know. I was in and out," I bang my head against the head rest.

"Yeah, you were," she says suggestively.

"Yeah, I was," I agree with a sly smirk, remembering last night. "I'll call her now."

"Alright, but this conversation isn't over. I want the deets! Including the steamy bits."

"And you'll get details soon. I'll be on the next flight out of here."

"What are you doing home, anyway?"

"It's complicated," I eye the manila envelope.

"Uncomplicate it."

"I can't," I say with a sigh. "I've still got quite a drive to make, and I don't think I'm actually allowed to stop here."

"It was worth a shot," she laughs. "See you later, Hun."

Can't blame her. She had to shoot her shot. Thing is though, I've kept this secret so well hidden.

Nadia doesn't even know and Justin, oh God. He doesn't know, either. What'll happen if he finds out?

When he finds out?

That man will leave me on the spot for my deceit and betrayal.

No.

I can't think like this.

He won't find out. I'll make sure of it.

It's that simple.

I've kept this secret from him this long.

I can continue keeping it.

What the eye doesn't see, the heart doesn't grieve over. I hate that damn idiom with a passion yet I'm using it. I'm a horrible, horrible person.

No, Telana.

You're doing what you need to do to prevent the man you love from getting hurt.

This is justifiable.

I'm doing the right thing and I know it.

"Okay," I say to myself, blowing out a breath through my lips. "I've got this."

I call Nads as I pull back onto the road, beginning my journey to freedom. That's a bit over the top. Some exaggeration to spice things up a little.

Even though it isn't spicing anything up. I'm just being overly dramatic but, in all honesty, I prefer the word eccentric.

The fuck does it even matter?

"You have got to be shitting me! Engaged? No text, no call, nothing?"

"Hello to you, too."

"I have a very important meeting in five minutes, I don't have time for formalities, and you know what?"

"What?"

"I had to find out my best friend is engaged via an online article! A fucking online article! To top it off, I couldn't enter our apartment building this morning with the mass of vultures blocking the entrance. They were eagerly waiting to snap a shot of the woman responsible for taking New York's most eligible bachelor off the market."

"Well, shit."

"Yeah, shit. They're gone now. They received word that you don't live there."

"Justin must've had something to do with that."

"Maybe. So, what happened?"

"I'll tell you everything once I'm back in New York. That's actually why I'm calling. I'm back home."

"No fucking way!"

"Yup," I chuckle.

"I don't even know how to respond to that."

"Then don't."

"Then I won't...I, uh, I have to go. Call you later, Ana?"

"Looking forward to it, love ya."

"Love ya, too bish," with that she hangs up. Talk about eccentric.

I spend the remainder of the drive focused on the road, my gaze flickering to the manila envelope. The contents of it weigh heavily on my shoulders just like they have been for five years.

I spent so much time and money posting these very documents over the years and each time, it gets sent back. Unsigned.

There wasn't a rush for them to be signed but the situation has changed. I need them signed and filed.

It's time to face my past just for a measly signature.

That's the thing about a person's past though, isn't it? Somehow it will always find a way to bite a person in the ass. You'd think that when you walk away from your past, leaving everyone and everything behind. It'll stay exactly where you leave it.

In the past.

But that's not the case. It never is.

You can never truly outrun your past.

Except I'm the one hunting down my past right now. So, it's not like my past is coming out of the trenches, haunting me.

It's me haunting my past.

I've avoided it long enough.

I know I'm rambling. A lot.

It's just, I've spent months, years, pushing these thoughts to the darkest, deepest confines of my mind. Locking those memories away behind bars and shackles.

I tried to forget about the life I left behind in Tybee Island. I really did try.

I was doing great until I realized I had to come home to face my past. Since then, I've been contemplating and overanalyzing everything. Questioning if I made the right decisions all those years ago.

I won't go too much into detail, but I will tell you this much...for now.

I took a gap year after I graduated high school โ€“ I had to โ€“ before I chose to leave home for uni. My gap year consisted of me deciding whether I wanted to go to uni or not. My eyes were opened in ways I never knew possible that year which led to my decision to pack up and leave.

I left home with so much determination to make something of myself. I left to prove to myself that I'm more than just an amateur photographer that dreamed of making it big. To prove to the people that doubted me that I could do it.

I could use their hateful words of discouragement and turn it into something wonderful and worthwhile.

I left home at nineteen years old with the love and support of my parents. Mama encouraged me to leave. Motivated me to study more, inspired me to become something and move far away from home and live my dreams.

I spent years in uni majoring in the arts and following my dreams. I did internships with some of the best New York photographers that have helped hone my skills.

Through all that, I graduated.

I got an entry level job, trying to climb the ladder and make a name for myself but I could never get that right.

After that I spent years entering into an annual contest, New York Photography awards.

I put myself out there only to be rejected, time and time again.

First place seemed impossible, but I kept on pushing, kept on fighting.

The grand prize for first place was my motivation. Five thousand dollars cash, an exhibition in New York's best fine art gallery for a month, a critic from The New York Times to write a review and a chance to sell your work during or after the month is up.

If that wasn't motivation enough to keep on trying, then I don't know what is.

But all that rejection, all my time, energy and effort weren't in vain. I won.

I finally fucking won!

A girl from a small town in Georgia with big dreams, won.

I was like a dog with two tails.

I started planning my next steps after that.

I no longer wanted to work an entry level job after I won the competition last week. So, I quit my job to pursue my dreams further. I didn't want my photography hanging in someone else's gallery although I'm super grateful for the exposure my work is receiving. I want to open my own gallery and I'm going to.

But first I need to get these papers signed so I can finally bury my past once and for all. After that, the world will be my oyster.

I'd like to strike that from the record.

I'm torn on oysters though it makes for a great aphrodisiac, that's for sure.

Can't blame me for knowing that. I grew up around seafood.

Yeah, it's official. I'm rambling way too much. So much so, that I almost made it to my destination without realizing. I would've preferred that.

I turn right onto Tybrisa street, memories swarming my mind of two naughty little ten-year-old's running down the sidewalks towards Tybee Beach Pier and Pavilion as our parents waited for us to return.

I can clearly see two extremely awkward fourteen-year-olds walking the same street, holding hands. I can still feel the excitement as she leaned in, making the first move to kiss him, darting her tongue into his mouth.

I can see two hormonal sixteen-year-olds, drunk and high on the love they shared. Unable to keep their hands off each other as he whispered dirty, sweet nothings into her ear.

I can still feel the excitement and nervousness for what they had planned that night. That hormonal sixteen-year-old was ready to give him anything and she did. She trusted him with her life.

But none of that matters anymore.

It's just childhood memories. Memories created by a naรฏve girl that didn't know any better.

I force the memories aside as my heart deflates with the crushing weight of nostalgia. I breathe out a shaky breath, my gut twisting in knots as I near the houses down by Tybee Creek.

Those memories are just that, memories.

I can't allow them to cloud my judgement and fuck with my emotions. Not anymore.

More memories attempt to swarm my mind as I drive down yet another familiar road, but I tighten their shackles. I bury them nine feet under concrete with cylinder blocks wrapped around them with barb wire. Hoping to prevent them from resurfacing.

Too much?

I know.

But I need all my old emotions to take a seat. I don't feel the same way anymore and my memories are confusing me. It's making me feel things that I once felt when things were good. When I was still naรฏve.

But I'm a different person now.

I've changed and I no longer feel that way.

I've moved on and I'm happier for it.

Sometimes, things don't work out as we planned and in all honesty. It's okay. It's okay not to be okay.

Broken promises, disappointment, and heartbreak. It's okay to go through it and more, it'll only make you stronger. It's preparing you to become the best version of yourself and it opens up your life to better opportunities you never expected. New experiences you never even dreamed of and the happiness you long for is waiting. It's waiting for all of us at the end of that dark, dark tunnel.

It's not about who's there for you in the light. It's about the person who is your light in the darkness.

I found my light in the darkness amidst all the chaos that was the shattered pieces of my heart. I found the path I was meant to be on, and I'll be damned if I let anything obstruct my path and jeopardize my future.

I pull into the familiar driveway with an unknown red pickup, and I switch off the ignition. I stare at my engagement ring, contemplating whether I should remove it or not. There isn't much to contemplate. I'm not ashamed of being engaged.

I'm not ashamed of moving on with my life.

So nope, I'm not removing it. I don't want to hide it, but I also don't want to show it off just yet. I turn it around, so the princess cut diamond is facing my palm, hiding the magnificent diamond surrounded by smaller diamonds encrusting the band.

"Okay, Telana. You've got this," I give myself another pep talk before I get out the car with the envelope.

"I've got this," I whisper to myself one last time, looking up at

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